N  EW  MA] 

an  appreciation 

'with  the  choicest  "Passages  of  his 
Writings  selected  and  arranged  by 

Alexander    Whyte 


APPRECIATION 


NEWMAN 

an  ^Appreciation  in  two  Lectures 
with    the    Choicest    Passages    of  his 
Writings  selected  and  arranged  by 

^Alexander    Jf^hyte 

D,D. 

The  t^ppendix   contains   Six  of 

his   Eminence's  Letters   not 

hitherto  published 


Longmans^    Qreen^   and  Co. 

91  and  93  Fifth  tAvenue^  D^w  York 
1902 


Copyright,  1901,  by 
LONGMANS,   GREEN,  AND  CO, 

All  rights  reserved 


TROW  DIRECTORY 

raiNTINQ  AND  BOOKBINDING  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK 


w 


To  e57kfy  Classes 


3594o6 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/appreciatinewmanOOwhytrich 


CONTENTS 

PAGB 

Lecture    I.— NEWMAN ii 

Lecture  II.— NEWMAN'S  WORKS    ....  71 
NEWMAN'S  CHOICEST  PASSAGES:— 

ON   GOD 141 

ON   GOD  THE   SON I43 

ON  THE  WORD I47 

ON   THE  INFINITE I51 

ON  THE  DOCTRINE   OF  THE  ECONOMY     .           .           .  153 

ON   THE   WORD   PERSON I56 

ON  THE  INSPIRATION   OF  THE  BIBLE        .           .           .  158 

ON   CONSCIENCE 161 

ON   FEAR  AND   LOVE 165 

ON  MAN 166 

ON   THE  WORLD   OF   MEN 168 

ON   SELF-KNOWLEDGE I'Jl 

ON  A  WRONG  CURIOSITY           .....  173 

ON   REALISING  WHAT  WE   READ        .            .            .            .  I76 

ON  THE  UNBELIEF   OF   SCIENTIFIC   MEN             .           .  179 

ON  THE   ENTERPRISE   OF   OUR   RACE           .            .            .  182 

ON  THE  WORLD'S  BENEFACTORS      ....  185 

7 


8  Contents 

PAGE 

ON    THE   world's   RELIGION 187 

ON   GREEK  AND   LATIN I90 

ON   ATHENS I92 

ON   A   UNIVERSITY   EDUCATION  ....  I96 

ON   GRAMMAR 199 

ON   THE    UNREALITY   OF   LITERATURE        .  .  .  203 

ON   A   GENTLEMAN 204 

ON   MUSIC 205 

ON    DEFINITENESS    IN    PREACHING    ....  209 

ON   EARNESTNESS   IN    PREACHING      .  .  .  .211 

ON    A    LOST    SOUL    BEFORE    THE    JUDGMENT    SEAT 

OF   CHRIST 213 

ON   THOMAS    MOZLEY'S   WASTE   OF   TIME  .  .  .2X6 

ON   DAVID 219 

ON   PAUL 220 

ON   A   GREAT  AUTHOR 223 

ON   SOME    GREAT   AUTHORS 227 

ON   HIMSELF 234 

ON   LEAVING  THE   CHURCH    OF   ENGLAND  .  .  24O 

ON   LEAVING   HIS   CONGREGATION     ....  242 

ON    HIS   SECESSION   TO   ROME 243 

APPENDIX 247 


NEWMAN 


APPRECIATION 

Avowedly,  this  lecture  is  to  be  an  apprecia- 
tion. It  is  not  to  be  a  biography  of  Newman. 
Much  less  is  it  to  be  a  criticism  or  a  censure  of 
that  great  man.  This  is  in  no  sense  to  be  a 
controversial  enterprise :  for  which,  indeed,  I 
have  neither  the  ability  nor  the  taste.  This 
lecture  will  be  much  more  of  the  nature  of  a 
valuation  and  a  eulogium,  so  far  as  that  even  is 
seemly  in  my  mouth  toward  a  man  who  is  so 
far  above  me.  I  live  by  admiration,  hope,  and 
love,  and  Newman  has  always  inspired  me 
with  all  these  feelings  toward  himself  and  tow- 
ard many  of  his  works.  So  much  so,  that  I 
intend  this  little  essay  of  mine  to  be  more  of 
the  nature  of  an  acknowledgment  and  a  tribute 
than  anything  else.  An  acknowledgment,  that 
is,  of  what  I  owe  of  enlargement  and  enrich- 
ment of  heart  to  this  great  author.  If  any 
one,  therefore,  has  the  disposition  to  dwell  on 
any  proofs  of  imperfection  in  Newman's  mind, 

II 


"^j]  ]    '  /Newman 

or  on  any  instances  of  instability  in  his  life,  or 
on  any  of  the  manifold  errors  and  defects  in 
his  teaching  and  preaching,  he  will  find  his 
full  gratification  in  many  able  and  unanswer- 
able books  and  papers  that  could  easily  be 
named.  Only,  he  will  not  find  much  of  that 
nature  in  this  appreciation,  as  I  intend  it,  and 
would  like  it  to  turn  out.  Newman,  no  doubt, 
had  his  own  share  of  those  infirmities  of  mind 
and  temper,  as  also  of  conduct  and  character, 
that  the  best  of  men  cannot  altogether  escape ; 
but  I  shall  not  dwell  much  on  such  things  as 
these,  even  when  I  cannot  wholly  shut  my 
eyes  to  them. 

This  little  study  is  not  at  all  intended  for 
those  who  know  Newman  already.  It  does 
not  presume  to  instruct  those  who  have  mas- 
tered this  rich  writer  for  themselves.  This 
lecture  has  been  prepared  for  those  rather  who 
know  Newman's  name  only,  and  who  know 
little  or  nothing  more  than  his  mere  name. 
Newman's  name  has  for  long  been  in  every 
mouth,  but  his  writings  are  voluminous,  and 
they  lie  far  out  of  the  beaten  track  of  our  day. 
And,  then,  they  are  not  very  easily  mastered 
even  by  those  readers  whose  exercised  senses 
they  strongly  attract.  At  the  same  time,  it  is 
my   hope   that  this  little  study   on  which  we 


Appreciation  13 

are  now  entering  will  prove  to  be  eminently 
interesting  and  profitable  to  us  all.  For,  among 
many  other  things,  it  will  show  us  how  much 
Newman's  special  genius,  his  peculiar  tempera- 
ment, and  his  providential  environment,  all  had 
to  do  with  the  formation  and  the  alteration  of 
his  opinions  ;  with  the  career  he  ran  in  the 
Church  of  England,  and  then  with  the  rest  he 
found  in  the  Church  of  Rome.  This  little 
study  will  surely  teach  us  also  to  look  at  things 
with  other  men's  eyes,  as  well  as  with  our  own  ; 
to  keep  constantly  in  mind  that  we  differ  from 
other  men  quite  as  much  as  they  differ  from 
us.  As,  also,  to  see  how  hateful  is  the  spirit  of 
party  in  the  Church  of  Christ ;  and  over  against 
that,  how  beautiful  is  an  open  mind  and  a 
humble  and  a  hospitable  heart.  And  in  be- 
ginning this  little  study,  I  think  I  can  make 
Newman's  words  in  the  preface  to  his  Via 
Media  my  own,  and  say  with  him  that  my  main 
object  is  not  at  all  controversy,  but  rather  edi- 
fication. And  now,  after  this  long  introduction, 
I  begin  to  see  what  a  task  I  have  set  before 
myself,  till  I  enter  on  it,  as  George  Chapman 
entered  on  his  translation  of  the  Iliad ^  sure  of 
nothing  but  my  labour. 

Writing  about  himself  in  the  third   person, 
Newman  says  in  the  beginning  of  his  Autobio- 


14  Newman 

graphical  Memoirs  :  "  John  Henry  Newman 
was  born  in  Old  Broad  Street,  in  the  city  of 
London,  on  February  21,  1801,  and  was  bap- 
tized in  the  Church  of  St.  Benet  Fink  on 
April  9  of  the  same  year.  His  father  was  a 
London  banker,  whose  family  came  from 
Cambridgeshire.  His  mother  was  of  a  French 
Protestant  family,  who  left  France  for  this 
country  on  the  revocation  of  the  Edict  of 
Nantes.  He  was  the  eldest  of  six  children — 
three  boys  and  three  girls.  On  May  i,  1808, 
when  he  was  seven  years  old,  he  was  sent  to  a 
school  of  two  hundred  boys,  at  Ealing,  near 
London,  under  the  care  of  the  Rev.  George 
Nicholas,  D.C.L.,  of  Wadham  College,  Ox- 
ford. As  a  child  Newman  was  of  a  studious 
turn  and  of  a  quick  apprehension ;  and  Dr. 
Nicholas,  to  whom  he  became  greatly  attached, 
was  accustomed  to  say  that  no  boy  had  run 
through  the  school,  from  the  bottom  to  the 
top,  as  rapidly  as  John  Newman.  Though  in 
no  respect  a  precocious  boy,  he  attempted 
original  compositions  in  prose  and  verse  from 
the  age  of  eleven,  and  in  prose  showed  a  great 
sensibility,  and  took  much  pains  in  matter  of 
style.  He  devoted  to  such  literary  exercises, 
and  to  such  books  as  came  in  his  way,  a  good 
portion  of  his  playtime ;  and  his  schoolfellows 


Appreciation  1 5 

have  left  on  record  that  they  never,  or  scarcely 
ever,  saw  him  taking  part  in  any  game.  In 
the  last  half  year  of  his  school  life  he  fell  under 
the  influence  of  an  excellent  man,  the  Rev. 
Walter  Mayer,  of  Pembroke  College,  Oxford, 
one  of  the  classical  masters,  from  whom  he  re- 
ceived deep  religious  impressions,  at  the  time 
Calvinistic  in  character,  which  were  to  him  the 
beginning  of  a  new  life." 

Turning  now  to  the  Apologia^^  we  read  as 
follows,  this  time  in  the  first  person  :  "  I  was 
brought  up  from  a  child  to  take  great  delight 
in  reading  the  Bible ;  but  I  had  no  formed  re- 
ligious convictions  till  I  was  fifteen.  Of  course, 
I  had  perfect  knowledge  of  my  Catechism. 
.  .  .  When  I  was  fifteen  a  great  change  of 
thought  took  place  in  me.  I  fell  under  the 
influences  of  a  definite  Creed,  and  received 
into  my  intellect  impressions  of  dogma,  which, 
through  God*s  mercy,  have  never  been  effaced 
or  obscured.  Above  and  beyond  the  conver- 
sations and  sermons  of  the  excellent  man,  long 
dead,  who  was  the  human  means  of  this  be- 
ginning of  divine  faith  in  me,  was  the  effect  of 
the  books  which  he  put  into  my  hands,  all  of 
the  school  of  Calvin.  ...  I  was  then, 
and  I  still  am,  more  certain  of  my  inward  con- 
version than  that  I  have  hands  and  feet.     My 


1 6  Newman 

conversion  was  such  that  it  made  me  rest  in 
the  thought  of  two  and  two  only  supreme 
and  luminously  self-evident  beings,  myself  and 
my  Creator.  ...  I  am  obliged  to  men- 
tion, though  I  do  it  with  great  reluctance,  a 
deep  imagination  which,  in  the  autumn  of 
1816,  took  possession  of  me, — there  can  be 
no  mistake  about  the  fact ; — viz.  that  it  was 
the  will  of  God  that  I  should  lead  a  single  life. 
This  anticipation,  which  has  held  its  ground 
almost  continuously  ever  since,  —  with  the 
break  of  a  month  now  and  then,  up  to  1829, 
and,  after  that  date,  without  any  break  at  all, 
— was  more  or  less  connected,  in  my  mind, 
with  the  notion  that  my  calling  in  life  would 
require  such  a  sacrifice  as  celibacy  involved  : 
as,  for  instance,  missionary  work  among  the 
heathen,  to  which  I  had  a  great  drawing  for 
some  years."  And  so  on,  in  that  so  fasci- 
nating book. 

Newman  has  a  very  characteristic  sermon 
in  his  series  of  University  Sermons,  entitled 
"  Personal  Influence  "  ;  and  all  his  days  he 
was  his  own  best  example  of  that  kind  of  in- 
fluence, both  as  experiencing  it  and  as  exer- 
cising it.  So  much  so,  that  from  the  day  he 
entered  Oxford  his  biography  is  really  the  his- 
tory of  the  personal  influences  that  were  poured 


Appreciation  1 7 

in  continually,  and  sometimes  unaccountably, 
upon  his  susceptible  mind  and  heart.  Richard 
Whately  was,  at  that  time,  one  of  the  ruling 
influences  of  Oxford,  and  his  moulding  hand 
was  at  once  laid  on  the  impressible  freshman, 
John  Henry  Newman.  Whately  was  a  big, 
breezy,  boisterous,  out-of-doors  kind  of  char- 
acter. He  was  a  sort  of  Anglican  Church 
Christopher  North ;  the  last  man  you  would 
have  said  was  likely  to  die  an  archbishop. 
Whately  was  a  man  of  an  iron  will,  but  he 
was  proverbially  kind  and  helpful  to  all  young 
men  who  kept  their  proper  place  under  him. 
"If  there  was  a  man,"  says  Newman,  "  easy  for 
a  raw  youth  to  get  on  with,  it  was  Whately — 
a  great  talker,  who  endured  very  readily  the 
silence  of  his  company  ;  original  in  his  views, 
lively,  forcible,  witty  in  expressing  them ; 
brimful  of  information  on  a  variety  of  subjects. 
The  worst  that  could  be  said  of  Whately  was 
that,  in  his  intercourse  with  his  friends,  he  was 
a  bright  June  sun  tempered  by  a  March  north- 
easter." 

Whately  was  not  long  in  discovering  that 
Newman  was  a  youth  full  of  all  kinds  of  abil- 
ity, and  for  a  time  Whately  and  Newman  were 
on  the  very  best  of  terms.  Whately's  power- 
ful mind,  great  learning,  commanding  manner. 


1 8  Newman 

and  high  position,  all  combined  to  make  him 
a  tower  of  strength  around  his  sensitive,  shy, 
and  self-conscious,  young  friend.  As  time 
went  on,  Whately  began  to  share  some  of  his 
literary  work  with  Newman,  and  in  that,  and 
in  not  a  few  other  things,  Whately  treated 
Newman  as  if  he  were  already  a  colleague  and 
an  equal,  rather  than  a  junior  and  a  subordi- 
nate. And,  altogether,  Newman  had  good 
reason  to  reckon  Whately,  as  he  always  did, 
as  one  of  the  best  influences  of  his  early  Ox- 
ford life.  At  the  same  time,  it  was  impossible 
that  Whately  and  Newman  could  for  very 
long  continue  to  act  together,  more  especially 
in  their  religious  and  ecclesiastical  relations. 
And  the  more  that  Whately  helped  forward 
the  development  and  the  independence  of 
Newman's  mind  and  character,  the  more  the 
inevitable  breach  between  the  two  so  different 
men  was  hastened,  not  to  say,  precipitated. 
But  let  Newman  sum  up  this  early  Oxford  re- 
lationship in  his  own  inimitable  way :  "  In 
1822  I  came  under  very  different  influences 
from  those  to  which  I  had  been  hitherto  sub- 
jected. At  that  time  Mr.  Whately,  as  he  was 
then,  afterwards  Archbishop  of  Dublin,  showed 
great  kindness  to  me.  ...  I  owe  Dr.  Whate- 
ly a  great  deal.     He  was  a  man  of  generous 


Appreciation  1 9 

and  warm  heart.  He  was  particularly  loyal  to 
his  friends,  and  to  use  the  common  phrase,  all 
his  geese  were  swans.  While  I  was  still  awk- 
ward and  timid  in  1822,  he  took  me  by  the 
hand,  and  acted  the  part  to  me  of  a  gentle 
and -encouraging  instructor.  He,  emphatically, 
opened  my  mind,  and  taught  me  to  think  and 
to  use  my  reason.  After  being  first  noticed  by 
him  in  1822,  I  became  very  intimate  with  him 
in  1825,  when  I  was  his  Vice-Principal  in  Al- 
ban  Hall.  I  gave  up  that  office  in  1826,  when 
I  became  Tutor  of  my  College,  and  his  hold 
upon  me  gradually  relaxed.  He  had  done  his 
whole  work  toward  me  or  nearly  so,  when  he 
had  taught  me  to  see  with  my  own  eyes  and  to 
walk  with  my  own  feet.  .  .  .  Dr.  Whate- 
ly's  mind  was  too  different  from  mine  for  us 
to  remain  long  on  one  line.  ...  I  believe 
that  he  has  inserted  sharp  things  in  his  later 
works  about  me.  They  have  never  come  in 
my  way,  and  I  have  not  thought  it  necessary  to 
seek  out  what  would  pain  me  so  much  in  the 
reading."  This  passage  on  Whately's  influ- 
ence on  Newman  will  be  best  wound  up  with 
this  characteristic  postscript  to  a  very  painful 
correspondence  that  took  place  long  afterwards 
between  Newman  and  his  old  Oriel  friend : 
"  May  I  be  suffered  to  add,  that  your  name  is 


20  Newman 

ever  mentioned  in  my  prayers,  and  to  subscribe 
myself  your  Grace's  very  sincere  friend  and 
servant,  John  Henry  Newman." 

But  by  far  the  most  powerful  personal  in- 
fluence that  laid  hold  of  Newman  in  those  im- 
pressible days  of  his  was  that  of  Hurrell  Froude. 
Froude's  personal  friends  are  all  at  one  in  their 
love  for  him  and  in  their  admiration  of  his  tal- 
ents and  his  character.  At  the  same  time,  as 
to  the  true  value  of  Froude's  influence  on 
Newman,  men's  judgments  will  vary  according 
to  their  ecclesiastical  and  religious  principles. 
Those  who  lean  to  Rome,  and  who  look  with 
approval  on  the  introduction  of  Romish  doc- 
trines and  practices  into  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, will  see  nothing  but  good  in  Froude's 
immense  influence  over  Newman.  Whereas, 
those  who  stand  fast  in  the  Reformed  and 
Evangelical  faith  will  bitterly  lament  that 
Froude  and  Newman  ever  met.  Newman's 
portrait  of  his  friend  is  one  of  the  shining  char- 
acterisations in  a  book  full  of  such  : — 

"  I  knew  Froude  first  in  1826,  and  was  in 
the  closest  and  most  aff^ectionate  friendship 
with  him  from  about  1829  till  his  death  in 
1836.  He  was  a  man  of  the  highest  gifts, — 
so  truly  many-sided,  that  it  would  be  pre- 
sumptuous in  me  to  attempt  to  describe  him. 


Appreciation  2 1 

except  under  those  aspects,  in  which  he  came 
before  me.  Nor  have  I  here  to  speak  of  the 
gentleness  and  tenderness  of  nature,  the  play- 
fulness, the  free  elastic  force  and  graceful  ver- 
satility of  mind,  and  the  patient  winning  con- 
siderateness  in  discussion,  which  endeared  him 
to  those  to  whom  he  opened  his  heart ;  for  I 
am  all  along  engaged  upon  matters  of  belief 
and  opinion,  and  am  introducing  others  into 
my  narrative,  not  for  their  own  sake,  or  because 
I  love  and  have  loved  them,  so  much  as  be- 
cause, and  so  far  as,  they  have  influenced  my 
theological  views.  .  .  .  Dying  prematurely, 
as  he  did,  and  in  the  conflict  and  transition- 
state  of  opinion,  his  religious  views  never 
reached  their  ultimate  conclusion,  by  the  very 
reason  of  their  multitude  and  their  depth.  .  .  . 
It  is  difficult  to  enumerate  the  precise  additions 
to  my  theological  creed  which  I  derived  from  a 
friend  to  whom  I  owe  so  much.  He  taught 
me  to  look  with  admiration  towards  the  Church 
of  Rome,  and  in  the  same  degree  to  dislike  the 
Reformation.  He  fixed  deep  in  me  the  idea 
of  devotion  to  the  Blessed  Virgin,  and  he  led 
me  gradually  to  believe  in  the  Real  Presence." 
And  on  Froude's  death  in  1836  Newman 
wrote :  "  I  can  never  have  a  greater  loss,  look- 
ing on  for  the  whole  of  my  life.     I  never,  on 


22  Newman 

the  whole,  fell  in  with  so  gifted  a  person.  In 
variety  and  perfection  of  gifts  I  think  he  far 
exceeded  even  Keble.  For  myself,  I  cannot 
describe  what  I  owe  to  him — as  regards  the 
intellectual  principles,  the  philosophy  of  relig- 
ion and  morals." 

As  to  Froude  having  taught  Newman  to 
dislike  the  Reformation,  Mr.  Gladstone,  while 
in  many  things  admiring  Froude  and  sympa- 
thising with  him,  says  that  he  is  compelled  to 
admit  and  lament  Froude^s  "glaring,  if  not 
almost  scandalous  disparagement  of  the  Re- 
formers." And  on  Froude's  whole  character, 
as  seen  in  his  history  and  as  studied  in  his 
writings,  Isaac  Taylor,  one  of  the  most  moder- 
ately spoken  of  all  the  critics  of  the  Tractarian 
Movement,  calls  Froude's  Remains  a  most  of- 
fensive book,  and  describes  Froude  himself  as 
the  unhappy  victim  of  a  singularly  malign  tem- 
perament, and  of  a  pernicious  training.  He 
denounces  also  the  sombre  and  venomous  flip- 
pancies of  Froude's  published  Journal.  As  to 
what  Newman  suggests  to  his  readers  in  saying 
that  Froude  died  before  his  religious  views  had 
reached  their  ultimate  conclusion,  Isaac  Will- 
iams has  this  in  his  clear-headed  and  honest- 
spoken  Autobiography :  "  Many  have  imag- 
ined, and  Newman  endeavoured   to   persuade 


Appreciation  23 

himself,  that  if  Froude  had  lived  he  would 
have  joined  the  Church  of  Rome  as  well  as 
himself  But  this  I  do  not  at  all  think.  And 
I  find  that  John  Keble  and  others  quite  agree 
with  me  that  there  was  that  in  Hurrell  Froude 
that  he  could  not  have  joined  the  Church  of 
Rome.  I  had  always  full  confidence  in 
Froude,"  adds  Isaac  Williams. 

A  far  more  sweet  and  genial  influence  than 
that  of  Froude,  though  an  influence  that  did 
almost  more  than  that  of  Froude  to  smooth 
Newman's  way  to  Rome,  was  that  of  John 
Keble.  "  Do  you  know  the  story  of  the  mur- 
derer," Froude  asks,  "  who  had  done  one  good 
deed  in  his  life  ?  Well,  if  I  were  asked  what 
good  deed  I  had  ever  done,  I  would  say  that 
I  had  brought  Keble  and  Newman  to  under- 
stand each  other."  John  Keble  had  won  an 
immense  reputation  at  Oxford,  but  great  hon- 
ours were  never  worn  with  a  more  lowly  mind 
than  were  Keble's  college  honours.  He  left 
the  University  with  the  greatest  prospects  just 
opening  before  him,  and  went  to  assist  his 
father  in  his  parish  work  as  a  pastor.  As  to 
Keble's  devoted  and  all-absorbing  churchman- 
ship,  it  was  as  indisputable  as  was  his  scholar- 
ship. In  his  brilliant  sketch  of  Keble,  Dean 
Church  tells  us  that  Keble  "  looked  with  great 


24  Newman 

and  intelligent  dislike  at  the  teaching  and  the 
practical  working  of  the  Evangelical  Christian- 
ity "  around  him,  and  that  "  his  loyalty  to  the 
Church  of  England  was  profound  and  intense. 
He  was  a  strong  Tory,  and  by  conviction  and 
religious  temper  a  thorough  High  Church- 
man." Froude  had  been  Keble's  pupil  at 
Oriel,  and  when  Keble  left  Oriel  for  his  curacy, 
he  took  Froude  with  him  to  read  for  his  de- 
gree. And  not  only  did  Froude  read  under 
Keble,  but  from  that  time  Keble  gained  in 
Froude  a  disciple  who  was  to  be  the  mouth- 
piece and  the  champion  of  his  High  Church 
ideas.  Froude  took  in  from  Keble  all  he  had 
to  communicate,  Dean  Church  tells  us — "  prin- 
ciples, convictions,  moral  rules  and  standards 
of  life,  hopes,  fears,  antipathies."  A  story  is 
told  to  the  effect  that  Keble  before  parting 
with  Froude  one  day,  seemed  to  have  some- 
thing on  his  mind ;  and  as  Froude  stepped 
into  the  coach,  Keble  said  to  him,  "  Froude, 
you  said  to-day  that  you  thought  Law's  Serious 
Call  a  very  clever  book ;  it  seemed  to  me  al- 
most as  if  you  had  said  that  the  Day  of  Judg- 
ment would  be  a  very  pretty  sight."  Froude 
all  his  days  acknowledged  the  deep  impression 
that  these  words  of  Keble  made  upon  him. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  William  Law  was  one  of 


Appreciation  25 

Froude^s  favourite  authors  all  his  days,  and 
the  same  masterly  writer  was  one  of  Keble's 
favourite  authors  also. 

Keble's  immense  influence  on  Newman  is 
traced  both  by  Newman  himself,  and  by  all  the 
writers  of  authority  on  that  time,  to  two  things 
— to  the  influence  of  Keble  upon  Froude 
and  to  'The  Christian  Tear,  Hursley  has  pro- 
duced two  very  influential  books  in  its  time, 
which  are  as  diametrically  removed  from  one 
another,  not  to  say  as  diametrically  opposed  to 
one  another,  as  could  possibly  be  found  in  the 
whole  spacious  circle  of  Christian  literature. 
The  one  book  is  a  Puritan  classic,  and  the 
other  is  an  Anglican  classic.  The  one  is  a 
treatise  in  strong  old  English  prose,  and  the 
other  is  a  volume  of  sweet,  somewhat  senti- 
mental, somewhat  ecclesiastical,  but  always  de- 
vout and  always  beautiful,  poetry.  The  one  is 
a  very  masterpiece  of  the  soul  under  the  deep- 
est spiritual  sanctification,  and  the  other  is  an 
acknowledged  masterpiece  of  an  Englishman's 
religion  under  the  English  obedience  and  dis- 
cipline. "  Keble,"  wrote  Newman  satirically  in 
his  Church  of  Rome  days,  "  did  that  for  the 
Church  of  England  which  none  but  a  poet 
could  do  :  he  made  it  poetical."  Keble*s  own 
condemnation  of  The  Christian  Tear  in  after 


26  Newman 

days  may  well  bewilder  his  biographer.  Dr. 
Abbott  traces  this  state  of  mind  in  Keble  to  the 
malign  influence  upon  him  of  Newman.  Be 
that  as  it  may,  few,  I  fear,  have  the  catholicity 
of  training,  and  the  taste  and  the  temper,  to 
make  to  themselves  classics  of  both  these 
Hursley  books,  though  both  books  are  real 
classics,  each  in  its  own  kind.  Even  Dean 
Stanley,  with  all  his  well-known  catholicity,  has 
no  word  of  appreciation  for  Marshall,  or  even 
of  recognition  for  that  truly  great  divine.  I^he 
Christian  Year  is  in  a  multitude  of  scholarly 
and  beautifully  got-up  editions,  and  T^he  Gospel 
Mystery  is  in  not  a  few  somewhat  poor  and 
mean-looking  editions.  My  favourite  copy  of 
T'he  Gospel  Mystery^  which  I  have  read  as  often 
as  Jowett  had  read  Boswell,  if  not  as  often  as 
President  Roosevelt  has  read  Plutarch,  is  of 
the  fourteenth  edition,  and  bears  the  date  of 
1 8 19.  Dr.  Andrew  Murray  of  South  Africa 
has  lately  published  with  Messrs.  Nisbet  an 
admirably  introduced  edition  of  Marshall  at  a 
shilling.  And  the  purchaser  who  answers  to 
the  advertisement  for  him  on  the  title-page,  and 
who  once  reads  Marshall,  will  never  cease  read- 
ing him  till,  as  Keble  says,  "  time  and  sin  to- 
gether cease."  But  after  this  parenthesis,  which, 
at  the  same  time,  is  of  more  importance  than 


Appreciation  27 

the  proper  text,  let  me  supply  you  with  one 
more  passage  out  of  the  Apologia  about  the 
author  of  'The  Christian  Tear^  and  his  immense 
influence  on  Newman  :  "  The  true  and  primary 
author  of  the  Tractarian  Movement,  as  is  usual 
with  great  motive-powers,  was  out  of  sight. 
Having  carried  off  as  a  mere  boy  the  highest 
honours  of  the  University,  he  had  turned  from 
the  admiration  which  haunted  his  steps,  and 
had  sought  for  a  better  and  holier  satisfaction 
in  pastoral  work  in  the  country.  Need  I  say 
that  I  am  speaking  of  John  Keble  ?  .  .  .  Tihe 
Christian  Tear  made  its  appearance  in  1827. 
It  is  not  necessary,  and  scarcely  becoming,  to 
praise  a  book  which  has  already  become  one  of 
the  classics  of  the  language.  .  .  .  Nor  can  I 
pretend  to  analyze,  in  my  own  instance,  the 
effect  of  religious  teaching  so  deep,  so  pure,  so 
beautiful.  The  two  main  intellectual  truths 
which  it  brought  home  to  me  I  had  already 
learned  from  Butler :  the  first  of  these  may  be 
called,  in  a  large  sense,  the  Sacramental  system, 
and  the  other  that  probability  is  the  guide  of 
life."  Every  one  who  is  acquainted  with  New- 
man's works  will  remember  how  those  two 
principles,  first  implanted  by  Butler,  and  then 
watered  by  Keble,  grew  till  they  cover  with 
their  branches  and  with  their  leaves  and  with 


28  Newman 

their  fruits  the  whole  broad  expanse  of  New- 
man*s  philosophical,  ecclesiastical,  and  religious 
writings. 

The  Tractarian  Movement  was  well  ad- 
vanced before  Dr.  Pusey  joined  it.  But  his 
accession  to  the  movement  immediately  gave 
it  an  immense  impulse.  "  Towards  the  end  of 
1 834,"  says  Dean  Church,  "  and  in  the  course 
of  1835,  an  event  happened  which  had  a  great 
and  decisive  influence  on  the  character  and 
fortunes  of  the  movement.  This  was  the  ac- 
cession to  it  of  Dr.  Pusey.  He  had  looked 
favourably  on  it  from  the  first,  partly  from  his 
friendship  with  Mr.  Newman,  partly  from  the 
workings  of  his  own  mind."  But  I  am  always 
glad  when  I  can  set  aside  every  other  author- 
ity, even  Church  and  Mozley,  and  open  the 
Apologia,  And  on  opening  that  peerless  book 
at  this  point,  I  read :  "  It  was  under  these  cir- 
cumstances that  Dr.  Pusey  joined  us.  I  had 
known  him  well  since  1827-8,  and  had  felt  for 
him  an  enthusiastic  admiration.  I  used  to  call 
him  6  ^eyag.  His  great  learning,  his  immense 
diligence,  his  scholarlike  mind,  his  simple  de- 
votion to  the  cause  of  religion,  overcame  me ; 
and  great  of  course  was  my  joy  when,  in  the 
last  days  of  1833,  he  showed  a  disposition  to 
make  common  cause  with  us.    .    .    .   He  at  once 


Appreciation  29 

gave  us  a  position  and  a  name.  Dr.  Pusey  was 
a  Professor  and  Canon  of  Christ  Church ;  he 
had  a  vast  influence  in  consequence  of  his  deep 
religious  seriousness,  the  munificence  of  his 
charities,  his  Professorship,  his  family  connec- 
tions, and  his  easy  relations  with  University 
authorities.  .  .  .  Dr.  Pusey  was,  to  use  the 
common  expression,  a  host  in  himself;  he  was 
able  to  give  a  name,  a  form,  and  a  personality 
to  what  was  without  him  a  sort  of  mob.  .  .  . 
People  are  apt  to  say  that  he  was  once  nearer 
the  Catholic  Church  than  he  is  now.  I  pray 
God  that  he  may  be  one  day  far  nearer  that 
Church  than  he  was  then ;  for  I  believe  that, 
in  his  reason  and  judgment,  all  the  time  that  I 
knew  him,  he  never  was  near  to  it  at  all." 

Pusey,  as  well  as  Newman,  had  already 
passed  through  some  very  remarkable  changes 
in  his  theological  views.  He  had  spent  some 
time  in  Germany,  and  on  his  return  to  England 
he  had  published  a  treatise  full  of  promise  in 
defence  of  the  liberal  theologians  and  liberal 
theology  of  Germany.  He  afterwards  with- 
drew that  book,  and  it  is  now  very  little  known. 
But  as  I  read  that  long-denied  and  forgotten 
essay,  I  see  nothing  in  it,  at  any  rate  in  its  de- 
mand for  freedom  in  Biblical  studies,  of  which 
any  High  Churchman,  or  any  one  else,  need 


30  Newman 

be  ashamed.  Indeed,  I  am  not  sure  but  that 
it  will  yet  be  pronounced  to  be  the  best  book 
that  its  learned  author  ever  wrote.  At  any 
rate,  there  is  a  strength  in  it,  and  a  sanity,  and 
a  true  catholicity,  that  are  not  always  exhibited 
in  Pusey's  later  writings.  I  could  quote  page 
after  page  out  of  this  repudiated  book  of  the 
profoundest  insight  into  many  still-pressing 
problems  of  Biblical  criticism ;  pages  that,  had 
their  author  stood  true  to  them,  and  had  he 
gone  on  to  unite  to  them  all  his  piety,  and  all 
his  learning,  and  all  his  well-earned  influence 
in  the  Church  of  England,  would  have  done 
much  to  prepare  the  way  for  that  combination 
of  orthodox  doctrine  with  the  foremost  scholar- 
ship, which  our  own  Church  in  Scotland,  as 
well  as  Pusey's  Church  in  England,  are  still 
painfully  seeking  to  attain.  But  instead  of  be- 
coming what  at  one  time  Pusey  gave  promise 
to  become,  he  fell  back  into  Tractarianism,  and 
became  another  instance  of  a  great  and  good 
man  making  the  grand  refusal. 

Such,  then,  were  the  three  remarkable  men 
to  whom  Newman,  in  his  humility,  makes  such 
handsome  and  honest  acknowledgment.  But 
the  real  truth  in  that  whole  matter  is  told 
about  all  those  four  men,  and  their  relations  to 
one  another,  in  this  final  and  unchallengeable 


Appreciation  3 1 

judgment  of  James  Anthony  Froude :  "  Far 
different  from  Keble,  from  my  brother,  from 
Dr.  Pusey,  from  all  the  rest,  was  the  true  chief 
of  the  Catholic  revival — John  Henry  Newman. 
Compared  with  him,  they  all  were  but  ciphers, 
and  he  the  indicating  number.'*  At  the  same 
time,  we  find  the  historian  writing  about  his 
brother  in  the  Nineteenth  Century  for  1879  in 
these  strong  terms :  "  I  look  back  upon  my 
brother  as  on  the  whole  the  most  remarkable 
man  I  have  ever  met  with  in  my  life.  I  have 
never  seen  any  person — not  one,  in  whom,  as 
I  now  think  of  him,  the  excellences  of  intellect 
and  character  were  combined  in  fuller  measure." 
Forty  years  after  this,  in  a  letter  to  Newman 
now  in  the  oratory  at  Birmingham,  and  written 
in  reference  to  a  chance  meeting  of  Newman 
and  Pusey  and  Keble  at  Hursley,  Keble  sent 
these  lines  to  Newman  : — 

**  When  shall  we  three  meet  again  ? 
When  the  hurley-burley  's  done. 
When  the  battle  's  lost  and  won.'* 

And  may  I  not  add  from  Keble  himself: — 

*'  And  sometimes  even  beneath  the  moon 
The  Saviour  gives  a  gracious  boon. 

When  reconciled  Christians  meet. 
And  face  to  face,  and  heart  to  heart. 
High  thoughts  of  holy  love  impart 

In  silence  meek  or  converse  sweet.*' 


32  Newman 

In  the  month  of  December  1832  Archdeacon 
Froude,  taking  his  son  Hurrell  and  Newman 
with  him,  set  out  to  the  south  of  Europe  in 
search  of  health  for  the  two  young  divines. 
Hurrell  Froude  was  far  gone  in  a  consump- 
tion, and  Newman's  health  had  suffered  se- 
verely from  the  labour  involved  in  the  compo- 
sition of  his  book  on  the  Arians.  Condensed 
as  is  Newman's  account  of  their  tour  in  the 
Apologia,  I  must  condense  it  still  more.  The 
full  narrative  is  given,  as  only  he  could  give  it, 
in  his  correspondence  published  by  his  sister, 
Mrs.  Mozley.  But  I  quote  and  condense 
from  the  Apologia :  "  We  set  out  in  December 
1832.  It  was  during  this  expedition  that  my 
verses  which  are  in  the  Lyra  Apostolica  were 
written.  Exchanging  as  I  was  definite  tutorial 
work,  and  the  literary  quiet  and  pleasant  friend- 
ships of  the  last  six  years,  for  foreign  countries 
and  an  unknown  future,  I  naturally  was  led  to 
think  that  some  inward  changes,  as  well  as 
some  larger  course  of  action,  were  coming  upon 
me.  The  strangeness  of  foreign  life  threw  me 
back  upon  myself:  I  found  pleasure  in  histor- 
ical sights  and  scenes,  not  in  men  and  manners. 
We  kept  clear  of  Catholics  throughout  our 
tour.  My  general  feeling  was — '  All,  save  the 
spirit  of  man,  is  divine.'     I  saw  nothing  but 


Appreciation  3  3 

what  was  external ;  of  the  hidden  life  of  Catho- 
lics I  knew  nothing.  I  was  still  more  driven 
back  upon  myself,  and  felt  my  isolation.  Eng- 
land was  in  my  thoughts  solely,  and  the  news 
from  England  came  rarely  and  imperfectly. 
The  Bill  for  the  Suppression  of  Irish  Sees  was 
in  progress,  and  filled  my  mind.  I  had  fierce 
thoughts  against  the  Liberals.  It  was  at  Rome 
that  we  began  the  Lyra  Apostolica.  The  motto 
shows  the  feeling  of  both  Froude  and  myself 
at  the  time.  We  borrowed  from  Bunsen  a 
Homer,  and  Froude  chose  the  words  in  which 
Achilles,  on  returning  to  the  battle,  says, '  You 
shall  know  the  difference,  now  that  I  am  back 
again.*  I  was  aching  to  get  home.  At  last  I 
got  off  in  an  orange  boat,  bound  for  Marseilles. 
Then  it  was  that  I  wrote  the  lines  '  Lead, 
kindly  Light,*  which  have  since  become  well 
known.  When  I  reached  my  mother's  house, 
my  brother  Frank  had  arrived  from  Persia 
only  a  few  hours  before.  This  was  the  Tues- 
day. The  following  Sunday,  July  14th,  Mr. 
Keble  preached  the  Assize  Sermon  in  the  Uni- 
versity pulpit.  It  was  published  under  the 
title  of '  National  Apostasy.*  I  have  ever  con- 
sidered and  kept  the  day  as  the  start  of  the  re- 
ligious movement  of  1833.**  With  all  that, 
thirty  years  after,  Keble  whispered  to  Newman 


34  Newman 

of  that  very  National  Apostasy,  "  But  was  it 
not  just  and  right  ?  " 

As  we  have  seen,  Newman  has  said  that 
John  Keble  was  the  true  and  primary  author 
of  the  Tractarian  Movement.  Be  that  as  it 
may,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  idea  of 
the  Tracts  originated  with  Keble.  In  a  private 
letter  of  Keble's  we  find  the  first  intimation  of 
what  Thomas  Mozley  has  called  "  that  porten- 
tous birth  of  time,  the  'Tracts  for  the  'Times' 
"  To  give  you  a  notion  of  the  kind  of  thing," 
writes  Keble,  "  the  first  tract  we  propose  to 
print  will  be  a  penny  account  of  the  martyrdom 
of  St.  Ignatius,  with  extracts  from  his  Epistles. 
Pray  do  not  blow  on  it  as  being  all  ultra"  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  when  the  first  tract  actually 
came  out,  it  showed  to  all  who  had  eyes  to 
read  it  that  a  very  different  hand  from  that  of 
Keble  was  to  be  on  the  helm  of  the  new  enter- 
prise. Newman  wrote  the  first  tract  with  his 
own  pen  under  the  name  of "  A  Presbyter," 
and  the  full  title  of  the  tract  was  this, "  Thoughts 
on  the  Ministerial  Commission,  respectfully 
addressed  to  the  Clergy."  The  famous  series 
thus  begun  ran  on  from  the  9th  September 
1833  ^"^  ^^  Feast  of  the  Conversion  of  St. 
Paul,  1 84 1,  during  which  years  ninety  tracts 
were  published,  varying  in  size  from  four  pages 


Appreciation  35 

to  an  octavo  volume.  Newman  wrote  twenty- 
seven  numbers  out  of  the  ninety,  Keble  twelve, 
and  Pusey  eight,  but  Pusey's  characteristic  con- 
tributions were  large  treatises  rather  than  handy 
tracts.  The  rest  of  the  ninety  tracts  were 
either  written  by  men  whose  names  you  would 
not  recognise,  or  they  were  compilations  and 
extracts  out  of  such  writers  as  Bull,  and  Bev- 
eridse,  and  Wilson.  The  substance  of  the 
tracts  was  wholly  limited  to  what  is  known  as 
High  Church  doctrine.  The  tracts  are  full  of 
the  privileges  of  the  Catholic  Church,  her  min- 
istry, her  sacraments,  and  the  discipline  to 
which  her  priesthood  and  her  people  ought  to 
submit  themselves.  "  Their  distinctive  speech," 
says  Mr.  Gladstone,  "  was  of  Church  and 
Priesthood,  of  Sacraments  and  Services."  And, 
as  was  to  be  expected,  there  runs,  through  the 
whole  series  a  great  scorn  of  evangelical  preach- 
ing, and  a  great  contempt  toward  every  min- 
ister of  the  Church  of  Christ  who  is  not  a 
priest,  either  of  the  Greek,  or  the  Roman,  or 
the  Anglican  obedience.  But,  whatever  the 
subject,  and  whatsoever  the  treatment,  it  is 
Newman  who  draws  on  the  reader  through  all 
the  tracts.  At  the  same  time,  with  all  his  ex- 
traordinary power  of  writing,  the  tracts  are 
little  read  either  in  England  or  in  Rome  ;  and 


36  Newman 

were  it  not  for  Newman,  nobody  nowadays 
would  ever  open  them.  At  least  so  I  learn 
from  all  Anglican  authorities.  But  if  you  have 
a  sufficient  wish  to  study  the  development,  or, 
as  some  readers  will  be  sure  to  call  it  the  de- 
generation of  the  finest  mind  in  the  Church 
of  England  in  this  century,  you  must  not 
grudge  to  go  diligently  through  every  succes- 
sive number  of  the  T^r acts  for  the  'Times.  Not 
that  Newman  writes  them  all,  but  there  is  not 
one  of  them  without  his  consent  and  approval 
and  personal  stamp.  At  the  same  time,  I 
warn  you  before  you  begin  that  you  will  need 
to  have  all  your  patience  in  its  fullest  exercise, 
and  all  your  forbearance,  and  all  your  admi- 
ration of  Newman,  in  order  to  carry  you  on 
from  the  beginning  of  Tract  I.  to  the  end  of 
Tract  XC.  Dreary  and  saddening  as  much 
of  the  tract-writing  is,  I  do  not  need  to  say 
that,  since  so  much  of  Newman  is  in  it,  you 
will  come  on  passages  not  a  few  that  do  not 
require  his  signature  set  to  them — passages  of 
such  truth  and  beauty  that  they  will  dwell  with 
you  all  your  days.  Having  read  all  the  ninety 
tracts,  and  some  of  them  many  times  over,  I 
can,  concerning  not  a  few  of  them,  subscribe 
to  what  Dean  Church  says  about  the  series  : 
"  They  were  clear,  sharp,  stern  appeals  to  con- 


Appreciation  37 

science  and  reason,  sparing  of  words,  utterly 
without  rhetoric,  intense  in  purpose.  They 
were  like  the  short,  sharp,  rapid  utterances  of 
men  in  pain,  and  danger,  and  pressing  emer- 
gency." That  eulogium  is  only  true  of  the 
selectest  and  the  best  of  the  tracts,  that  is  to 
say,  of  Newman's  contributions  to  the  series. 
As  regards  the  first  tract,  which  gave  the  key- 
note to  the  series,  I  can  entirely  subscribe  to 
what  Dr.  Abbott,  Newman's  severest  critic, 
says  about  it :  "  Regarded  as  a  specimen  of 
Newman's  sympathetic  rhetoric,  the  tract  is 
most  admirable.  It  is  indeed  a  splendid  piece. 
All  the  more  effective,  because  so  restrained." 
And  what  that  sternest  of  Newman's  censors 
says  about  the  first  tract  is  entirely  true  of 
many  more  of  Newman's  contributions.  "  Top- 
ics," says  Mr.  Jacobs  in  a  fine  piece  of  criticism 
reprinted  from  the  Athenauniy  "  that  seemed 
forbidding,  both  for  their  theological  techni- 
calities, and  their  repulse  of  reason,  were  pre- 
sented by  Newman  with  such  skill  that  they 
appeared  as  inevitable  as  Euclid,  and  as  at- 
tractive as  Plato." 

But  it  was  the  pulpit  of  St.  Mary's  that  was 
Newman's  true  and  proper  throne.  It  was 
from  the  pulpit  of  St.  Mary's  that  he  began  to 
conquer  and  to  rule  the  world.     I  never  saw 


38  Newman 

Newman  in  his  pulpit  myself,  but  I  have  read 
so  much  about  his  appearance  in  the  pulpit  that 
I  feel  as  if  I  could  undertake  to  let  you  see 
and  hear  him  in  it.  I  have  open  before  me,  as 
I  compose  these  lines,  what  Shairp,  and  Church, 
and  Mozley,  and  Froude,  and  Lockhart,  and 
Oakeley,  and  the  Bishop  of  Carlisle,  and  many 
more  have  told  us  about  Newman's  preaching. 
Principal  Shairp,  for  one,  has  a  most  admirable 
picture  of  Newman  in  the  pulpit.  He  begins 
by  telling  us  how  simple  and  unostentatious 
the  service  in  St.  Mary's  was  when  Newman 
was  the  preacher.  "  No  pomp,  no  ritualism," 
are  Shairp's  words,  "  nothing  but  the  silver  in- 
tonation of  Newman's  magic  voice.  Newman's 
delivery  had  this  peculiarity.  Each  sentence 
was  spoken  rapidly,  but  with  great  clearness  of 
intonation,  and  then,  at  the  close  of  every  sen- 
tence, there  was  a  pause  that  lasted  for  several 
seconds.  Then  another  rapidly  but  clearly 
spoken  sentence,  followed  by  another  pause, 
till  a  wonderful  spell  took  hold  of  the  hearer. 
The  look  and  bearing  of  the  preacher  were  as 
of  one  who  dwelt  apart,  and  who,  though  he 
knew  his  age  well,  did  not  live  in  his  age. 
From  his  seclusion  of  study,  and  abstinence, 
and  prayer ;  from  habitual  dwelling  in  the  un- 
seen, he  seemed  to  come  forth  that  one  day  of 


Appreciation  39 

the  week  to  speak  to  others  of  the  things  he 
had  seen  and  known  in  secret.  As  he  spake, 
how  the  old  truths  became  new  !  how  they  came 
home  with  a  meaning  never  felt  before  !  The 
subtlest  of  truths  were  dropped  out  as  by  the 
way  in  a  sentence  or  two  of  the  most  transpar- 
ent Saxon.  What  delicacy  of  style,  yet  what 
calm  power  !  how  gentle  yet  how  strong  !  how 
simple  yet  how  suggestive !  how  homely  yet 
how  refined  !  how  penetrating  yet  how  tender- 
hearted !  And  the  tone  of  voice  in  which  all 
this  was  spoken  sounded  to  you  like  a  fine 
strain  of  unearthly  music."  I  remember  viv- 
idly the  delight  I  took  in  an  article  on  New- 
man's sermons  that  appeared  more  than  thirty 
years  ago  in  the  Saturday  Review,  That  arti- 
cle gave  a  voice  to  what  I  had  long  felt  about 
Newman's  sermons,  but  had  not  the  ability 
myself  to  utter.  And  I  remember  how  I 
bought  up  not  a  few  numbers  of  that  issue  of 
the  Saturday  Review,  and  sent  them  to  friends 
up  and  down  the  country  in  order  that  they 
might  share  the  fine  tribute  with  me.  I  did 
not  know  at  the  time  that  Dean  Church  was 
the  writer  of  that  remarkable  appreciation.  I 
used  to  have  the  following  passage  by  heart : 
"  Dr.  Newman's  sermons  stand  by  themselves 
in  modern  English  literature :  it  might  even  be 


40  Newman 

said,  in  English  literature  generally.  There 
have  been  equally  great  masterpieces  of  Eng- 
lish writing  in  this  form  of  composition,  and 
there  have  been  preachers  whose  theological 
depth,  acquaintance  with  the  heart,  earnestness, 
tenderness,  and  power  have  not  been  inferior 
to  his.  [I  did  not  know  those  preachers  then, 
and  I  do  not  know  them  yet.]  But  the  great 
writers,"  Church  goes  on,  "  do  not  touch, 
pierce,  and  get  hold  of  minds  as  Newman 
does,  and  those  who  are  famous  for  the  power 
and  the  results  of  their  preaching  do  not  write 
as  he  does.  We  have  learned  to  look  upon 
Dr.  Newman  as  one  of  those  who  have  left 
their  mark  very  deep  on  the  English  language. 
Little,  assuredly,  as  their  writer  originally 
thought  of  such  a  result,  the  sermons  have 
proved  a  permanent  gift  to  our  literature,  of 
the  purest  English,  full  of  spring,  clearness, 
and  force.  Such  English,  graceful  with  the 
grace  of  nerve,  flexibility,  and  power,  must 
always  have  attracted  attention ;  but  his  Eng- 
lish had  also  an  ethical  element  which  was  al- 
most inseparable  from  its  literary  characteris- 
tics." And  so  on,  to  the  end  of  an  article 
very  remarkable  for  its  insight  and  its  elo- 
quence. 

Before  leaving  St.  Mary*s,  I  must  give  you 


Appreciation  41 

this  very  remarkable  portrait  of  Newman,  lest 
you  may  never  have  seen  it.  James  Anthony 
Froude,  in  an  article  in  Good  Words  for  1881, 
says :  "  My  present  letter  will  be  given  to  a 
single  figure.  When  I  entered  Oxford  John 
Henry  Newman  was  beginning  to  be  famous. 
His  appearance  was  striking.  He  was  above 
the  middle  height,  slight,  and  spare.  His  head 
was  large,  his  face  remarkably  like  that  of  Julius 
Caesar.  The  forehead,  the  shape  of  the  ears 
and  nose,  were  almost  the  same.  I  have  often 
thought  of  the  resemblance,  and  believed  that 
it  extended  to  the  temperament.  In  both 
there  was  an  original  force  of  character  which 
refused  to  be  moulded  by  circumstances,  which 
was  to  make  its  own  way,  and  become  a  power 
in  the  world ;  a  clearness  of  intellectual  percep- 
tion, a  disdain  for  conventionalities,  a  temper 
imperious  and  wilful,  but  always  with  it  a  most 
attaching  gentleness,  sweetness,  singleness  of 
heart  and  purpose.  Newman's  mind  was 
world-wide.  He  was  interested  in  everything 
which  was  going  on  in  science,  in  politics,  in 
literature.  Nothing  was  too  large  for  him, 
nothing  too  trivial.  He  was  careless  about  his 
personal  prospects.  He  had  no  ambition  to 
make  a  career,  or  to  rise  to  rank  and  power. 
Still  less  had  pleasure  any  seductions  for  him. 


42  Newman 

His  natural  temperament  was  bright  and  light ; 
his  senses,  even  the  commonest,  were  excep- 
tionally delicate.  I  am  told  that,  though  he 
rarely  drank  wine,  he  was  trusted  to  choose  the 
vintages  of  the  college  cellar.  He  could  ad- 
mire enthusiastically  any  greatness  of  action 
and  character,  however  remote  the  sphere  of  it 
from  his  own.  Gurwood*s  Despatches  of  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  came  out  just  then.  New- 
man had  been  reading  the  book,  and  a  friend 
asked  him  what  he  thought  of  it.  '  Think  ! ' 
he  said ;  *  it  makes  one  burn  to  have  been  a 
soldier ! ' "  I  could  not  deny  you  that  re- 
markable characterisation,  though  it  is  Froude*s 
description  of  Newman  in  the  pulpit  I  am  spe- 
cially in  quest  of:  "  No  one  who  heard  his  ser- 
mons in  those  days  can  ever  forget  them. 
Taking  some  Scripture  character  for  a  text, 
Newman  spoke  to  us  about  ourselves,  our 
temptations,  our  experiences.  His  illustrations 
were  inexhaustible.  He  seemed  to  be  address- 
ing the  most  secret  consciousness  of  each  of 
us — as  the  eyes  of  a  portrait  appear  to  look  at 
every  person  in  a  room.  He  never  exagger- 
ated ;  he  was  never  unreal.  A  sermon  from 
Newman  was  a  poem,  formed  on  a  distinct 
idea,  fascinating  by  its  subtlety,  welcome — how 
welcome! — from  its  sincerity,  interesting  from 


Appreciation  43 

Its  originality  ;  even  to  those  who  were  careless 
of  religion,  and  to  those  who  wished  to  be  re- 
ligious, it  was  like  the  springing  of  a  fountain 
out  of  a  rock."  And  take  this  also  from  an 
anonymous  pen :  "  Action  in  the  common 
sense  there  was  none.  His  hands  were  liter- 
ally not  seen  from  the  beginning  to  the  end. 
The  sermon  began  in  a  calm,  musical  voice, 
the  key  slightly  rising  as  it  went  on  ;  by  and 
by  the  preacher  warmed  with  his  subject,  till  it 
seemed  as  if  his  very  soul  and  body  glowed 
with  suppressed  emotion.  The  very  tones  of 
his  voice  seemed  as  if  they  were  something 
more  than  his  own.  There  are  those  who  to 
this  day,  in  reading  many  of  his  sermons,  have 
the  whole  scene  brought  back  before  them. 
The  great  church,  the  congregation  all  breath- 
less with  expectant  attention,  the  gaslight  just 
at  the  left  hand  of  the  pulpit,  lowered  that  the 
preacher  might  not  be  dazzled :  themselves, 
perhaps,  standing  in  the  half-darkness  under 
the  gallery,  and  then  the  pause  before  those 
words  in  T'he  Ventures  of  Faith  thrilled  through 
them,  *  They  say  unto  Him,  "  We  are  able,"  * 
or  those  in  the  seventh  sermon  in  the  sixth 
volume,  '  The  Cross  of  Christ.'  " 

But    hear  William    Lockhart    also,  one   of 
Newman's    oldest   living  disciples :    "  To  see 


44  Newman 

Newman  come  into  St.  Mary's,  in  his  long 
white  surplice,  was  like  nothing  one  had  seen 
before.  He  glided  in  swiftly  like  a  spirit  in- 
carnate. When  he  reached  the  lectern,  he 
would  drop  down  on  his  knees  and  remain 
fixed  in  mental  prayer  for  a  few  moments,  then 
he  rose  in  the  same  unearthly  way  and  began 
the  service.  His  reading  of  the  lessons  from 
the  Old  and  New  Testaments  was  a  most  mar- 
vellous expression  of  soul.  Many  men  are 
expressive  readers,  only  we  can  see  that  they 
intend  to  be  expressive.  But  they  do  not 
reach  the  soul ;  they  are  good  actors,  certainly, 
but  they  do  not  forget  themselves,  and  you  do 
not  forget  them.  The  effect  of  Newman's 
preaching  on  us  young  men  was  to  turn  our 
souls  inside  out.  It  was  like  what  he  says  in 
the  Dream  of  Gerontius  of  the  soul  after  death, 
and  presented  before  God — 

*  Who  draws  the  soul  from  out  its  case 
And  burns  away  its  stains.*  ** 

"  We  never  could  be  again  the  same  men 
we  were  before." 

That  is  surely  enough.  Nothing  surely 
could  add  to  that.  Such  testimonies,  from 
such  men,  is  almost  more  to  us  than  if  we  had 
been  hearers  of  Newman  for  ourselves.     Next 


Appreciation  45 

to  having  been  his  hearers,  and  far  better  than 
that,  we  have  his  incomparable  sermons  in  our 
hands,  so  that  we  can  enter  St.  Mary's  when- 
ever we  choose. 

We  would  willingly  remain  with  Newman  in 
St.  Mary's  pulpit  to  the  end,  if  he  would  only 
remain  there  with  us.  But  we  are  following 
out  his  onward  career,  and  all  this  time  he  has 
been  making  steady  and  straight  for  Rome  ;  so 
much  so,  that  his  Romeward  progress  can  be 
watched,  and  measured,  and  recorded  —  Dr. 
Abbott  has  done  it — in  almost  every  one  of 
his  St.  Mary's  sermons.  No  reader  of  those 
sermons  who  has  his  eyes  open  can  fail  to  see 
Newman's  Romeward  footprints  on  every  page. 
He  denies  that  he  ever  took  his  Tractarian 
doctrines  into  the  pulpit ;  but,  then,  he  tells 
us  that  it  was  almost  a  rule  of  his  not  to  open 
his  own  books  after  they  came  out ;  and  he 
cannot  have  opened  many  of  his  St.  Mary's 
sermons,  if  he  is  entirely  candid  in  what  he 
says  about  them  in  the  matter  of  their  Trac- 
tarianism.  At  any  rate,  I  cannot  open  them 
without  being  continually  vexed  and  thrown 
out  by  his  constant  asides  at  evangelical  truth, 
not  to  say  by  his  constantly  insinuated  praises 
of  Tractarian  positions,  and  sacerdotal  and  as- 
cetic practices,  with  their  both  justifying  and 


46  Newman 

sanctifying  influences.  From  the  first  of  his 
published  sermons  to  the  last,  sermon  succeed- 
ing sermon,  there  are  to  be  seen  Newman's 
onward  footprints,  soft  as  the  falling  snow ;  his 
swift,  noiseless,  delicate,  and  refined  footprints. 
Sometimes  for  a  moment  seeming  to  turn 
aside ;  sometimes  for  a  moment,  as  one  would 
think,  looking  not  unwistfully  back ;  but  only 
to  turn  all  the  more  resolutely,  and  sometimes, 
to  use  his  own  word, "  fiercely,"  on  his  Rome- 
ward  way.  In  all  his  tracts  also  you  can  trace 
the  same  progress  as  plainly  as  in  his  sermons ; 
as  also  in  all  his  historical,  doctrinal,  and  po- 
lemical writings,  from  the  Avians  to  the  De- 
velopment ;  and  the  same  progress  is  still  more 
dramatically  to  be  studied  in  all  his  letters. 
"  It  has  ever  been  a  hobby  of  mine,  though 
perhaps  it  is  a  truism,  not  a  hobby,  that  the 
true  life  of  a  man  is  in  his  letters.  Not  only 
for  the  interest  of  a  biography,  but  for  arriving 
at  the  true  inside  of  things,  the  publication  of 
letters  is  the  true  method.  Biographers  var- 
nish, they  assign  motives,  they  conjecture  feel- 
ings, they  interpret  Lord  Burleigh's  nods  ;  but 
contemporary  letters  are  facts."  On  these  four 
parallel  and  converging  lines  then, — his  ser- 
mons, his  tracts,  his  historical  doctrinal  and 
controversial  publications,  and  his  letters,  and. 


Appreciation  47 

I  may  add,  his  poems — the  attentive  student 
can  trace  every  step  of  Newman's  secession 
from  the  Church  of  England,  and  every  step 
in  his  progress  toward  the  Church  of  Rome. 
And  a  right  repaying  study  it  is  to  the  proper 
student,  the  rare  student,  that  is,  of  sufficient 
enterprise  and  endurance. 

"  From  the  end  of  184 1  I  was  on  my  death- 
bed as  regards  my  membership  with  the  An- 
gHcan  Church.  Now  a  deathbed  has  scarcely 
a  history ;  it  is  a  tedious  decline,  with  seasons 
of  rallying  and  seasons  of  falling  back ;  and 
since  the  end  is  foreseen,  or  what  is  called  a 
matter  of  time,  it  has  little  interest  for  the 
reader,  especially  if  he  has  a  kind  heart.  More- 
over, it  is  a  season  when  doors  are  closed  and 
curtains  drawn,  and  when  the  sick  man  neither 
cares  nor  is  able  to  record  the  stages  of  his 
malady.'*  Littlemore  was  the  scene  of  New- 
man's deathbed.  Littlemore  was  a  sort  of 
midway  house  between  Oxford  and  Rome.  Or, 
rather,  it  was  the  last  hostel  on  the  Roman 
road.  "  Father  Dalgairns  and  myself,"  says 
Lockhart,  "were  the  first  inmates  of  Little- 
more. It  was  a  kind  of  monastic  life  of  retire- 
ment, prayer,  and  study.  We  had  a  sincere 
desire  to  remain  in  the  Church  of  England,  if 
we  could  be  satisfied  that  in  so  doing  we  were 


48  Newman 

members  of  the  world-wide  visible  communion 
of  Christianity  which  was  of  apostolic  origin. 
We  spent  our  time  at  Littlemore  in  study, 
prayer,  and  fasting.  We  rose  at  midnight  to 
recite  the  Breviary  Office,  consoling  ourselves 
with  the  thought  that  we  were  united  in 
prayer  with  united  Christendom,  and  were 
using  the  very  words  used  by  the  saints  of  all 
ages.  We  regularly  practised  confession,  and 
went  to  Communion,  I  think,  daily,  at  the 
village  church.  At  dinner  we  met  together, 
and  after  some  spiritual  reading  at  table  we  en- 
joyed conversation  with  Newman.  He  spoke 
freely  on  all  subjects  that  came  up,  but  I  think 
controversial  topics  were  tacitly  avoided.  He 
was  most  scrupulous  not  to  suggest  doubts  as 
to  the  position  of  the  Church  of  England  to 
those  who  had  them  not.  Newman  would 
never  let  us  treat  him  as  a  superior,  but  placed 
himself  on  a  level  with  the  youngest  of  us.  It 
was  his  wish  to  give  us  some  direct  object  of 
study  in  his  splendid  library,  in  which  were  all 
the  finest  editions  of  the  Greek  and  Latin 
fathers  and  schoolmen,  all  the  best  works  on 
Scripture  and  theology,  general  literature,  prose 
and  verse,  and  a  complete  set  of  the  Bollandist 
Acta  Sanctorum^  so  far  as  they  had  been  printed. 
Newman  was  an  excellent  violin  player,  and  he 


Appreciation  49 

would  sometimes  bring  his  instrument  into  the 
library  after  dinner  and  entertain  us  with  the 
exquisite  sonatas  of  Beethoven.'* 

But  by  this  time  the  end  was  not  far  off. 
And  this  letter  to  his  sister  will  best  describe 
the  end  : — 

Littlemore^  October  %th,  1845. 

"  My  dear  Jemima, — I  must  tell  you  what 
will  pain  you  greatly,  but  I  will  make  it  as 
short  as  you  would  wish  me  to  do. 

"  This  night  Father  Dominic,  the  Passionist, 
sleeps  here.  He  does  not  know  of  my  in- 
tention ;  but  I  shall  ask  him  to  receive  me  into 
what  I  believe  to  be  the  one  Fold  of  the  Re- 
deemer. 

"  This  will  not  go  till  all  is  over. — Ever 
yours  affectionately,     John  H.  Newman." 

"  I  left  Oxford  for  good  on  Monday,  Febru- 
ary 23,  1846.  On  the  Saturday  and  Sunday 
before,  I  was  in  my  house  at  Littlemore  simply 
by  myself,  as  I  had  been  for  the  first  day  or 
two  when  I  had  originally  taken  possession  of 
it.  I  slept  on  Sunday  night  at  my  dear  friend's, 
Mr.  Johnson,  at  the  Observatory.  Various 
friends  came  to  see  the  last  of  me  :  Mr.  Cope- 
land,  Mr.  Church,  Mr.  Buckle,  Mr.  Pattison, 
and  Mr.  Lewis.     Dr.  Pusey,  too,  came  up  to 


50  Newman 

take  leave  of  me ;  and  I  called  on  Dr.  Ogle, 
one  of  my  very  oldest  friends,  for  he  was  my 
private  tutor  when  I  was  an  undergraduate.  In 
him  I  took  leave  of  my  first  college.  Trinity, 
which  was  so  dear  to  me,  and  which  held  on 
its  foundation  so  many  who  have  been  kind  to 
me,  both  when  I  was  a  boy,  and  all  through 
my  Oxford  life.  Trinity  had  never  been  un- 
kind to  me.  There  used  to  be  much  snap- 
dragon growing  on  the  walls  opposite  my  fresh- 
man's rooms  there,  and  I  had  for  years  taken 
it  as  the  emblem  of  my  own  perpetual  residence, 
even  unto  death,  in  my  university. 

"  On  the  morning  of  the  23rd  I  left  the 
Observatory.  I  have  never  seen  Oxford  since, 
excepting  its  spires,  as  they  are  seen  from  the 
railway." 

To  me  by  far  the  most  important  chapter  of 
the  whole  Apologia  is  that  in  which  its  author 
goes  on  to  tell  us  what  the  position  of  his  mind 
has  been  since  1845.  ^^  ^^^^  ^^^  nttd.  to 
tell  us  that  his  mind  had  not  been  idle,  nor 
that  he  had  not  given  over  thinking  on  theo- 
logical subjects.  But  it  makes  us  open  our 
eyes  and  attend  to  every  word  when  he  con- 
tinues as  follows  :  "  I  have  had  no  variations 
to  record,  and  have  had  no  anxiety  of  heart 


Appreciation  5 1 

whatever.     I   have  been  in  perfect  peace  and 
contentment ;  I  have  never  had  one  doubt.     I 
was  not  conscious  to  myself,  on  my  conversion, 
of  any  change,  intellectual  or  moral,  wrought 
in  my  mind.     I  was  not  conscious   of  firmer 
faith  in  the  fundamental  truths  of  Revelation, 
or  of  more  self-command  ;  I  had  not  more  fer- 
vour ;  but  it  was  like  coming  into  port  after  a 
rough  sea  ;  and   my  happiness  on   that  score 
remains  to  this  day.''     Now,  I  for  one  am  not 
satisfied  with  that  statement,  frank,  and  open, 
and  guileless,  as  it  looks,  and  as  I  entirely  be- 
lieve it  to  be.     I  would  like  to  be  told  more 
than  I   am  here  told.     I  would  like  that  this 
chapter  had  gone  far  deeper  down  than  it  has 
gone.     I  do  not  for  a  moment  forget  that  the 
Apologia  sets  out  to  be  a  history  of  its  author's 
religious   opinions   only  ;  but  I  am  so  consti- 
tuted that  every  man's  religious  opinions  take 
their   interest,   and    their  sanction,    and    their 
weight,  and  their  worth,  with  me  according  to 
the  influence  they  have  on  the  heart  and  the 
life  of  him  who  holds  such  and  such  opinions. 
And  the  longer  I  live  I  am  becoming  more  and 
more   exacting   in    this    respect  with    my    few 
favourite  authors.     So  much  so,  that  I   now 
rank  my  classics  according  as  their  authors  show 
me  that  they  know  the  plague  of  their   own 


52  Newman 

hearts,  and  are  able  to  speak  home  to  the  plague 
of  my  heart.  Rare  genius  in  a  writer,  great 
learning,  a  perfect  style — nothing  whatsoever 
will  any  more  make  up  to  me  for  his  blindness 
to,  and  his  silence  about,  his  own  heart  and 
mine.  I  will  show  you  what  I  mean.  In  his 
Tractarian  days  Newman  did  an  immense  ser- 
vice in  that  he  translated  Bishop  Andrewes's 
Private  Devotions  out  of  the  Greek  into  his 
own  incomparable  English,  and  printed  his 
translation  in  the  Eighty-eighth  'Tract  for  the 
'Times,  Now  in  one  memorable  place,  the 
saintly  old  Bishop  cries  out  in  his  sweat  and 
tears  that  he  is  still  trodden  down  by  a  great 
trespass  that  has  tyrannised  over  him  from  his 
youth  up.  It  is  perhaps  too  much  to  ask  at 
Newman,  or  at  any  one  else,  but  a  man  will 
not  stick  at  trifles  when  his  soul  is  at  stake. 
Well,  then,  when  Newman  after  his  second 
conversion  came  again  on  that  agonising  cry  of 
Andrewes*s,  did  he  still  continue  to  make  that 
agonising  cry  his  own  ?  Or  was  his  new  con- 
version such  and  so  complete  that  all  the  sins 
of  his  youth  and  middle  age  were  now  sloughed 
off,  and  for  ever  left  behind  him  ?  Did  New- 
man's youthful  "shuddering  at  himself"  dis- 
appear after  he  came  into  the  perfect  peace  of 
Rome  ?     Was  he  any  better  able  to  keep  his 


Appreciation  53 

heart  clean  of  pride,  and  of  anger,  and  of  ill- 
will,  say,  at  the  Jesuits,  at  Cardinal  Manning, 
and  at  Charles  Kingsley  ?  And  of  self-satis- 
faction and  elation  of  mind  when  the  Apologia^ 
say,  turned  out  so  well,  and  was  received  with 
such  universal  acclamation  ?  There  are  spots 
in  the  sun,  and  there  are  the  dregs  of  original 
sin  still  left  in  the  most  advanced  of  the  saints. 
But  I  am  pained  above  measure  when  one  who 
lived  under  the  same  roof  with  Newman  in  his 
old  age  quite  outspokenly  accuses  him  of  "  ex- 
traordinary implacability  "  toward  any  one  who 
either  thwarted  or  disappointed  him.  "  There 
was,  in  fact,  no  place  for  repentance.  A  com- 
plete submission  might  mend  matters  ;  but  the 
offender  would  for  ever  afterwards  remain  in 
the  outer  circle."  "  John,"  said  his  sister, 
"  can  be  most  amiable,  most  generous.  He 
can  win  warm  love  from  all  his  friends ;  but  to 
become  his  friend  the  essential  condition  is 
that  you  see  everything  along  his  lines,  and  ac- 
cept him  as  your  leader."  Now,  if  you  were 
to  find  yourself  out  to  be  at  all  like  that  at 
eighty,  would  you  not  be  glad  to  ask, — your 
baptism  and  all  else  notwithstanding, — Can  a 
man  be  born  again  when  he  is  old  ?  You  would 
be  compelled  to  admit  that  neither  circumci- 
sion availeth  anything,  nor  uncircumcision,  but 


54  Newman 

a  new  creature.  And  would  you  not  begin  to 
doubt  if  you  were  in  the  right  Church  of  Christ 
after  all?  Because  you  have  it  on  His  own 
authority  that  all  the  Churches,  with  all  their 
sacraments,  and  all  else,  are  to  be  tried  as  if 
they  were  trees  ;  that  is  to  say,  by  their  fruits 
in  their  ministers  and  in  their  people  they  are 
to  be  known  and  are  to  be  dealt  with ;  pruned 
and  dressed,  or  altogether  cut  down,  as  the  case 
may  be.  "  I  was  not  conscious  to  myself,  on 
my  conversion,  of  any  change,  intellectual  or 
moral,  wrought  in  my  mind.  I  was  not  con- 
scious of  firmer  faith  in  the  fundamental  truths 
of  Revelation,  or  of  more  self-command  ;  I  had 
not  more  fervour."  Now,  these  are  just  the 
things  that  the  Church  of  Christ  exists  in  all 
her  branches  to  produce.  And,  than  these 
things,  there  is  nothing  in  any  Church  that  I, 
speaking  for  myself,  value  one  farthing.  And 
if  Rome  did  not  do  anything  at  all  in  these 
directions  for  her  most  docile  and  most  suscep- 
tible convert,  certainly  she  has  nothing  else 
wherewith  to  tempt  me.  It  is  just  my  want 
of  faith,  and  self-command,  and  fervour,  that 
makes  me  shudder  at  myself,  and  no  ecclesi- 
astical subterfuge,  short  of  these  things,  would 
bring  any  true  rest  and  security  of  heart  to  me. 
Now,  I  protest  to  you  that  I  am  not  disrespect- 


Appreciation  55 

ful  in  one  syllable  of  what  I  am  now  saying, 
or  anything  but  absolutely  reverential,  to  this 
great  man.  I  am  not  speaking  in  an  imperti- 
nent or  a  debating  mind.  I  am  in  dead  ear- 
nest, I  assure  you,  in  all  I  now  say.  Because, 
if  Newman  could  have  satisfied  me  about  all 
these  momentous  things  in  his  various  autobi- 
ographic writings,  I  do  not  see  how  I  could 
possibly  have  rested  short  of  the  same  submis- 
sion and  surrender  to  Rome  that  he  made. 
But  if  Newman's  perfect  peace  and  absolute 
contentment  after  his  second  conversion  ter- 
minated short  of  an  entirely  humble,  and  holy, 
and  heavenly  heart,  then  I  shall  remain  where 
I  am :  trusting  that  He  who  has  begun  these 
transcendent  things  in  me  where  He  has  plant- 
ed me,  will  perfect  them  either  where  He  has 
planted  me,  or  where  He  will  thence  transplant 
me  in  His  own  time.  Far  above  the  fascinat- 
ing history  of  his  rehgious  opinions  ;  far  above 
his  exquisite  style ;  far  above  all  these  and  all 
his  other  manifold  benefits  to  me,  I  would  like 
far  better  that  Newman  had  still  further  con- 
descended and  had  laid  bare  some  of  these  still 
deeper  secrets  of  his.  "It  may  easily  be  con- 
ceived how  great  a  trial  it  is  to  me  to  write  the 
following  history  of  myself;  but  I  must  not 
shrink  from  the  task.     The  words,  *  Secretum 


56  Newman 

meum  mihi/  keep  ringing  in  my  ears  ;  but  as 
men  draw  towards  their  end,  they  care  less 
for  disclosures."  Would  that  he  had  carried 
that  noble  resolution  far  deeper  than  he  has 
done  !  For,  what  an  Autobiography  the  world 
would  then  have  had  !  And  what  an  apple  of 
gold  in  what  a  picture  of  silver  his  fifth  chapter 
would  then  have  been  !  As  it  is,  this  history 
of  the  position  of  Cardinal  Newman's  mind 
merely,  after  1 845,  beyond  its  captivating  style, 
has  little  or  nothing  of  real  interest  or  value  to 
me. 

"  Father  Dominic  does  not  know  of  my  in- 
tention ;  but  I  mean  to  ask  of  him  admission 
into  the  One  Fold  of  Christ."  Now,  I  have 
studied  every  syllable  that  Newman  ever  wrote 
about  "  the  One  Fold  of  Christ,"  both  before 
he  had  asked  to  be  admitted  into  it,  and  after 
his  admittance.  But  he  has  failed  to  convince 
his  most  admiring  and  most  open-minded 
reader.  Not  only  has  he  not  convinced  that 
reader,  but  he  has  confirmed  him  more  than 
ever  the  other  way.  No  ;  Newman  and  all  his 
intoxicating  Tractarian  and  Catholic  writings 
notwithstanding.  Neither  Moscow,  nor  Rome, 
nor  Geneva,  nor  Canterbury,  is  the  One  Fold 
of  Christ  to  me.  To  me,  I  thank  God,  none 
of  all  those  assuming  and  contending  churches. 


Appreciation  57 

nor  all  of  them  taken  together,  is  the  One 
Fold  of  Christ.  The  Good  Shepherd,  who 
gave  His  life  for  the  sheep,  has  much  sheep 
of  His  in  all  these  partial  folds,  and  much 
sheep  of  His  outside  them  all,  neither  shall  any 
man  pluck  them  out  of  His  hand.  To  me, 
Protestant  though  I  am,  the  true  pathos  of 
Newman's  history  does  not  lie  in  his  leaving 
the  Church  of  England  for  the  Church  of 
Rome,  but  it  lies  in  his  for  ever  forsaking  the 
Evangelical  faith,  than  which,  properly  speak- 
ing, there  is  no  other  faith,  and  in  declining 
upon  a  system  of  religion  in  which  that  faith, 
as  I  suppose,  is  at  its  very  lowest  point.  Paul's 
indignant  language  to  the  Galatian  Church 
alone  expresses  my  sad  thoughts  over  New- 
man's declension.  I  will  not  repeat  that  lan- 
guage, but  everyone  who  knows  Newman's  his- 
tory will  recall  and  will  apply  that  language 
for  themselves.  "  But,"  as  Newman  says  of 
himself  in  the  Introduction  to  his  Chrysostom, 
"  I  am  getting  far  more  argumentative  than  I 
thought  to  be  when  I  began  ;  so  I  will  soon 
lay  down  my  pen  and  retire  into  myself." 

The  last  forty  years  of  Newman's  earthly 
life  were  spent  within  the  walls  of  the  Oratory 
at  Birmingham.  And,  monastery  as  it  was,  it 
was  in   many  respects  a  charming  retreat   for 


58  Newman 

a  community  of  scholars  and  Christian  gentle- 
men. You  must  not  think  of  Newman  and 
his  confraternity  as  cooped  up  in  narrow  cells, 
never  seeing  the  sun,  and  never  allowed  to 
speak  or  to  look  up  from  the  ground.  You 
must  not  think  of  them  as  fasting  every  day, 
and  only  breaking  their  fast  with  a  crumb 
of  bread  and  a  cup  of  cold  water.  Far  from 
that;  for  Philip  Neri  was  their  patron  saint, 
and  not  Father  Mathew.  And  under  Philip's 
genial  rule  they  had  great  times  of  it  at  Edg- 
baston.  The  students  had  stage  plays  and  all 
kinds  of  out-of-doors  sports  and  games  to  their 
hearts'  content.  Father  Newman  the  greatest 
boy  of  them  all.  He  employed  his  fine  and 
familiar  scholarship  to  adapt  old  Latin  com- 
edies to  the  Oratory  stage,  he  presided  in  per- 
son over  the  rehearsals,  saw  to  the  proper 
dresses  with  his  own  eyes,  and  that  at  no  end 
of  expense.  "  He  coached  nearly  every  one 
of  the  players  privately,  and  astonished  them 
not  a  little  by  the  extraordinary  versatility  and 
dramatic  power  with  which  he  would  himself 
personate  for  their  imitation  a  love-sick  Roman 
exquisite  or  a  drunken  slave."  And  not  for 
the  entertainment  of  the  young  men  only,  were 
these  relaxations  indulged  in.  The  head  of 
the  holy  house  himself  had  been  all  his  days 


Appreciation  59 

passionately  fond  of  music,  and  at  eighty  few 
could  handle  the  fiddle-bow  like  him.  The 
first  piece  of  furniture  my  own  eye  lighted  on 
in  the  lobby  of  the  Oratory,  when  Dr.  Dods, 
Dr.  Thomson,  and  I  went  to  pay  our  respects 
to  Newman,  was  the  Cardinal's  mammoth 
cello.  And  then,  the  six  days  of  the  secular 
week  were  not  sufficient  for  the  flow  of  spirits 
that  welled  up  in  the  old  Cardinal's  heart. 
Dr.  Allen  tells  us  that  long  after  PhiUips 
Brooks  was  the  most  famous  preacher  in 
America,  on  one  occasion  when  he  and  his 
brother  were  back  in  the  old  home  on  a  hol- 
iday, so  obstreperous  were  the  noises  that  were 
coming  out  of  the  smoking-room,  that  their 
mother  knocked  at  the  door  and  exclaimed, 
"  My  boys,  remember  that  it  is  the  Sabbath- 
day!"  And  had  the  Cardinal's  Huguenot 
mother  been  allowed  inside  the  Oratory  on 
any  Sabbath-day  whatever,  most  certainly  she 
would  have  boldly  reproved  the  cricket  and 
the  concerts  that  went  on  all  the  afternoon,  to 
the  scandal  of  the  Puritan  neighbourhood.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  Newman's  near  neighbours 
did  remonstrate  with  him  against  his  conti- 
nental Sunday,  but  Hippocleides  didn't  care. 
And  the  thing  went  on.  But  you  must  not 
suppose  that  all  the  Cardinal's  forty  years  in 


6o  Newman 

the  Oratory  were  spent  in  sport  like  that. 
One  who  must  have  known  the  Oratory  from 
the  inside  once  wrote  about  it  thus  :  "  As  Dr. 
Newman^s  days  grow  fewer,  they  grow  longer. 
He  has  ever  been  an  early  riser,  and  now  from 
five  in  the  morning  to  an  unknown  hour  at 
night  he  is  busily  engaged  in  redeeming  the 
time.  His  first  two  hours  are  given  to  de- 
votion. About  eight  o'clock  he  appears  in 
the  refectory,  where  he  breakfasts  in  silence, 
attacking  meanwhile  the  pile  of  correspondence 
which  awaits  him  on  the  table.  Then  his  own 
room  receives  him,  and  until  half-past  two  or 
three  in  the  afternoon  correspondence,  study, 
and  the  duties  of  the  house  and  the  school, 
engross  him.  An  hour  or  two  in  the  afternoon 
is  given  to  exercise,  for  he  is  still  a  great 
pedestrian ;  the  community  dinner  is  at  six 
o'clock;  and  on  days  when  his  turn  comes 
round  '  the  Father '  girds  on  the  apron  of  ser- 
vice, and  waits  upon  his  brethren,  not  sitting 
down  till  they  are  all  served.  All  eat  in  si- 
lence, only  broken  by  the  voice  of  the  lector. 
Perhaps  the  two  things  which  most  strike  the 
visitor  among  these  ecclesiastics  is  their  thor- 
oughly English  tone,  and  the  liberality,  in  the 
highest  sense,  of  their  views.  So  passes  Dr. 
Newman's  life  in  the  Birmingham  Oratory." 


Appreciation  6i 

He  did  not  need  to  assure  us  that  his  mind 
was  not  idle  during  his  Catholic  days.  He 
did  not  need  to  certify  us  that  he  had  not 
given  over  thinking  on  theological  subjects. 
The  Sermons  addressed  to  Mixed  Congregations, 
the  Sermons  preached  on  Various  OccasionSy 
^The  Idea  of  a  University ,  l!he  Grammar  of  As- 
sent,  the  Apologia  pro  vita  sua.  Loss  and  Gain, 
Callista,  'The  Dream  of  Gerontius,  his  brilliant 
controversial  volumes,  and  his  ceaseless  re- 
writing and  re-arranging  of  his  Anglican  works, 
such  as  his  Arians,  his  Athanasius,  his  Theo- 
logical Tracts,  and  his  fine  volumes  of  Critical 
and  Historical  Essays  ;  all  that  is  proof  enough 
of  the  continued  activity  of  his  magnificent 
mind.  His  Oratory  writings  alone  would  make 
up  a  noble  life's  work  in  themselves,  even  for 
a  man  of  the  greatest  genius,  and  the  greatest 
industry,  which  Newman  was  to  the  end  of  his 
days. 

"  I  cannot  see,  I  cannot  speak,  I  cannot 
hear,  God  bless  you,"  was  Newman's  message 
to  his  old  friend  Mr.  Gladstone  in  November 
1888.  Newman's  delight  in  men,  in  books, 
and  in  affairs  had  all  his  life  been  intense,  and 
he  had  a  strong  desire  that  his  life  might  be 
prolonged  to  its  utmost  possible  span,  if  it  was 
the  will  of  God.    "  For  myself,  now,  at  the  end 


62  Newman 

of  a  long  life,  I  say  from  a  full  heart  that  God 
has  never  failed  me,  has  never  disappointed  me, 
has  ever  turned  evil  into  good  for  me.  When 
I  was  young  I  used  to  say  (and  I  trust  it  was 
not  presumptuous  to  say  it)  that  our  Lord 
ever  answered  my  prayers."  And  his  prayer 
for  a  long  life  was  answered  like  all  the  rest 
of  his  prayers.  Cardinal  Newman  died  at  the 
Edgbaston  Oratory  on  Monday,  nth  August 
1890,  and  was  buried  at  his  own  little  estate  of 
Rednal,  under  this  epitaph  written  by  him- 
self:— 

JOANNES    HENRICUS    NEWMAN 

EX    UMBRIS    ET    IMAGINIBUS 

IN    VERITATEM 

REQUIESCAT    IN    PACE. 

The  Church  of  Rome  may  well  be  proud  of 
her  conquest  of  Newman,  for  she  never  made 
spoil  of  a  nobler  foe.  But  what  Rome  gains 
and  holds,  she  gains  and  holds  not  for  herself 
alone.  Men  like  Newman  are  not  to  be  sep- 
arated up  to  any  one  sect  of  the  Church  of 
Christ.  They  belong  to  no  one  denomina- 
tion even  when  they  surrender  themselves  to  it. 
In  the  adorable  providence  of  God,  it  may 
have  been  permitted  and  appointed  that  New- 
man should  pass  over  into  the  Roman  commun- 


Appreciation  63 

ion  to  do  a  service  for  God  in  that  commun- 
ion that  no  other  Hving  man  could  do.  We 
are  not  able  to  follow  out  such  permissions  and 
appointments  of  God's  providence  to  their  ul- 
timate end.  It  is  enough  to  know  that  men 
like  Newman  are  not  their  own,  and  that  their 
very  errors  and  mistakes  are  made  to  work  to- 
gether for  good  to  themselves,  and  to  many 
besides  themselves.  Rome  belongs  to  the 
Risen  Christ,  as  well  as  Moscow,  and  Geneva, 
and  Canterbury,  and  Edinburgh.  And  He 
to  whom  we  all  belong  will  dispose  of  His 
servants,  and  will  distribute  their  services,  ac- 
cording to  their  talents  and  according  to  our 
necessities.  And  that,  not  according  to  our 
approval,  but  according  to  His  own.  And 
now,  for  one  thing,  who  can  tell  but  some  open 
mind  among  ourselves  may,  as  he  hears  all  this, 
be  led  to  say — Surely  the  Church  of  Rome 
must  be  other  and  better  than  I  have  been 
brought  up  to  think  she  was,  since  she  drew 
over  to  herself  such  a  saint,  and  such  a  scholar, 
and  such  a  man  of  genius,  as  Newman  was. 
Well,  whatever  the  Church  of  Rome  is  or  is 
not,  for  you  to  say  that  about  her  is  a  good  sign 
in  you.  I  want  you  to  be  more  hospitable  in 
your  heart  to  Rome  than  she  is  to  you ;  more 
catholic  than  she  is,  more  humble,  more  tender. 


64  Newman 

more  hopeful,  and  altogether  more  charitable. 
I  do  not  want  any  of  you  to  be  like  the  man 
in  William  Law  who  died  devoid  of  all  religion 
because  he  had  spent  all  his  life  on  earth  in 
nothing  else  but  in  constant  terror  of  Popery. 
And  I  will  hope  and  will  be  sure  that  one  re- 
sult of  our  present  appreciation  of  Newman 
together  will  help  to  lead  you  to  something  of 
my  own  mind  in  these  matters,  which  I  would 
not  now  lose  or  exchange  for  all  the  world. 
For,  as  I  see  and  believe,  our  brethren  in  the 
Church  of  Rome  have  some  things  to  teach 
us  ;  but,  again,  we  have  far  more  important 
things  to  call  to  their  remembrance. 

**  O  that  thy  creed  were  sound  !  '*   sang  Newman, 
**  For  thou  dost  soothe  the  heart,  thou  Church  of  Rome, 
By  thy  unwearied  watch  and  varied  round 
Of  service,  in  thy  Saviour's  holy  home.** 

When  her  creed  is  again  sound,  and  when 
we  have  humbled  ourselves  to  learn  from  her 
some  of  the  not  unneeded  lessons  that  she  has 
to  teach  us,  then  Ephraim  shall  not  any  more 
envy  Judah,  and  Judah  shall  not  any  more  vex 
Ephraim.  Then  He  shall  set  up  an  ensign 
for  the  nations,  and  shall  assemble  the  outcasts 
of  Israel,  and  gather  together  the  dispersed  of 
Judah  from  the  four  corners  of  the  earth.  Who 


Appreciation  65 

is  she  that  looketh  forth  as  the  morning,  fair 
as  the  moon,  clear  as  the  sun,  and  terrible  as 
an  army  with  banners  ?  Enlarge  the  place  of 
thy  tent,  and  let  them  stretch  forth  the  cur- 
tains of  thine  habitations ;  spare  not,  lengthen 
thy  cords,  and  strengthen  thy  stakes  ;  for  thou 
shalt  break  forth  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the 
left ;  and  thy  seed  shall  inherit  the  Gentiles, 
and  make  the  desolate  cities  to  be  inhab- 
ited. 

The  true  Catholic,  as  our  class-studies  have 
been  teaching  us  for  these  past  years,  is  the 
well-read,  the  open-minded,  the  hospitable- 
hearted,  the  spiritually-exercised  Evangelical,  as 
he  is  called.  He  is  of  no  sect.  He  is  of  no 
school.  He  is  of  no  occasion.  He  comes  of 
no  movement.  He  belongs  to  all  sects,  and 
all  sects  belong  to  him.  So  far  as  they  have 
any  portion  of  Divine  truth  in  their  keeping, 
or  any  evidence  of  Divine  grace  in  their  walk 
and  conversation,  they  are  all  his  fellow-com- 
municants and  his  brethren.  How  rich  such 
men  are  in  truth  and  love  and  hope  !  for  all 
things  are  theirs.  All  men,  and  all  books,  and 
all  churches.  Whether  Paul,  or  John,  or  Au- 
gustine, or  Athanasius,  or  Dante,  or  Behmen, 
or  Luther,  or  Calvin,  or  Hooker,  or  Taylor, 
or  Knox,  or  Rutherford,  or  Bunyan,  or  But- 


66  Newman 

ler,  or  Edwards,  or  Chalmers,  or  Newman,  or 
Spurgeon.  And  we  have  not  a  few  of  such 
Catholic  Evangelicals  in  our  pulpits,  and  among 
our  people,  in  Scotland,  and  they  are  multiply- 
ing among  us  every  day.  And  nowhere  in 
broad  Christendom  does  the  foremost  scholar- 
ship, wedded  to  the  oldest  and  deepest  doc- 
trines of  grace,  produce  such  good  preaching, 
and  such  receptive  and  believing  hearing,  as 
just  in  that  land  where  Laud  found  no  relig- 
ion, and  where  Newman,  when  in  his  Laud- 
like mind,  saw  only  Samaritan  schism,  some- 
what alleviated  by  God's  uncovenanted  mercies. 
To  return  once  more  to  the  Apologia :  "In 
1 843  I  took  a  very  significant  step.  I  made  a 
formal  Retractation  of  all  the  hard  things  which 
I  had  said  against  the  Church  of  Rome."  Now 
there  was  a  far  more  significant  step  than  that 
which  Newman  ought  to  have  taken  in  1890. 
But  it  was  a  step  which,  alas,  he  died  without 
having  taken.  He  ought  to  have  laid  his 
honoured  head  in  the  dust  for  all  the  slings  and 
scoffs  he  had  ever  uttered  in  the  pride  of  his 
heart  at  men  whose  shoe-latchet,  he  should  have 
said,  he  was  not  worthy  to  unloose.  The  shoe- 
latchet  of  such  men  of  God  as  Luther,  and 
Calvin,  and  the  Anglican  Reformers,  as  well  as 
Bunyan,  and  Newton,  and  Wesley,  and  many 


Appreciation  67 

more  men  of  God,  whose  only  offence  against 
Newman  and  his  sectarian  and  intolerant  school 
had  been  that  they  were  determined  to  preach 
no  other  gospel  than  the  gospel  of  a  sinner's  free 
justification  before  God  by  faith  on  the  Son  of 
God,  and  on  Him  and  on  His  work  alone. 
Men  to  whom  their  Master  will  yet  say,  Well 
done,  good  and  faithful  servant !  and  that,  too, 
in  Newman's  hearing.  Those  who  are  best 
able  to  speak  about  such  matters  assure  us  that 
Newman  largely  returned  to  his  mother's 
Huguenot  and  Puritan  faith  in  his  last  days. 
And  I  believe  it.  But,  then,  he  should  have 
said  so  himself,  and  he  should  have  openly 
apologised  for  and  repudiated  all  he  had  ever 
written,  and  had  instigated  others  to  write,  to  the 
detriment  of  apostolical  and  evangelical  religion. 
Had  he  done  that  he  would  have  died  in  the 
Catholic  faith  indeed.  And  then  he  would 
have  had  all  his  great  gifts,  with  all  their  splen- 
did usury,  accepted  when  he  came  to  offer  them 
at  the  altar.  As  it  is,  "  He  that  despiseth  you, 
despiseth  Me  ;  and  he  that  despiseth  Me,  des- 
piseth Him  that  sent  Me."  I  am  not  New- 
man's judge ;  but  if  I  were,  I  would  say  of 
him,  in  the  language  of  his  own  Church,  that 
he  died  unrepentant  and  unabsolved  of  the  sin 
of  having  despised,  and  of  having  taught  many 


68  Newman 

others  to  despise,  some  of  the  best  ministers  of 
Christ  this  world  has  ever  seen. 

When,  then,  if  such  thy  lot,  thou  seest  thy  Judge, 

The  sight  of  Him  will  kindle  in  thy  heart 

All  tender,  gracious,  reverential  thoughts. 

And  thou  wilt  hate  and  loathe  thyself ;  for,  though 

Now  sinless,  thou  wilt  feel  that  thou  hast  sinned. 

As  never  thou  didst  feel  ;  and  wilt  desire 

To  slink  away,  and  hide  thee  from  His  sight. 

And  yet  wilt  have  a  longing  aye  to  dwell 

Within  the  beauty  of  His  countenance. 

And  those  two  pains,  so  counter  and  so  keen, — 

The  longing  for  Him,  when  thou  seest  Him  not  ; 

The  shame  of  self  at  thought  of  seeing  Him, — 

Will  be  thy  veriest,  sharpest  purgatory. 


NEWMAN'S  WORKS 


NEWMAN'S    WORKS 

Newman's  works  extend  altogether  to  some 
thirty-seven  or  thirty-eight  volumes,  not  count- 
ing his  "Tr acts  for  the  'Times,  Newman's  works 
may  be  described  and  classified  as  containing 
sermons,  pure  theology,  pure  literature,  history, 
treatises,  essays,  polemics,  fiction,  poetry,  de- 
votions, autobiography, — and  all  first-rate  of 
their  kind.  And,  all  taken  together,  constitut- 
ing a  body  of  intellectual  workmanship  that 
stands  absolutely  by  itself  in  English  literature. 
The  Lyra  Apostolica  was  the  first  publication 
with  which  Newman's  name  was  associated. 
"It  was  at  Rome  that  we  began  the  Lyra 
Apostolica^  which  appeared  monthly  in  the 
British  Magazine,  The  motto  shows  the  feel- 
ing of  both  Froude  and  myself  at  the  time ;  we 
borrowed  from  Bunsen  a  Homer ;  and  Froude 
chose  the  words  in  which  Achilles  on  returning 
to  the  battle  says,  '  You  shall  know  the  differ- 
ence, now  that  I  am  back  again.'  "  Exactly  so. 
It  is  the  motto,  not  the  title-page,  that  truly 

71 


72  Newman*s  Works 

describes  the  character  of  this  bellicose  little 
book.  The  motto  is  out  of  the  Iliads  and, 
most  certainly,  the  fierce  little  volume  is  written 
much  more  in  the  spirit  of  the  Iliad  than  in  the 
spirit  of  the  New  Testament.  If  you  had  never 
heard  of  the  Lyra  Apostolica,  but  had  come 
upon  it  by  chance,  had  read  its  title-page,  and 
had  then  dipped  into  its  contents,  you  would 
certainly  have  laid  it  down,  saying,  Surely  never 
was  written  book  worse  named  than  this  proud, 
scornful,  ill-natured,  and  most  anti-apostolic, 
ebullition !  And  the  more  you  had  been  in- 
doctrinated with  apostolic  truth,  and  imbued 
with  the  apostolic  spirit,  the  more  would  you 
resent  the  utterly  misleading  title-page,  however 
happy  to  the  book  you  might  think  the  motto 
and  the  heathen  source  of  it.  The  motto  is 
most  excellent  for  the  purpose  of  the  Lyra^  but 
the  title-page  is  a  very  triumph  of  misnomer. 
Froude  supplied  the  motto,  and  no  little  of  the 
pugnacious  and  egotistical  spirit  of  the  Lyra ; 
but  Newman,  as  usual,  did  the  most  of  the 
work,  as  he  certainly  did  all  the  best  of  it. 
There  are  179  pieces  in  the  Lyra  altogether; 
of  which  Newman  contributed  109,  Keble  46, 
Isaac  Williams  9,  Froude  8,  Bov/den  6,  and 
Wilberforce  i .  Bowden  writes  above  the  signa- 
ture a,  Froude  above  ^,  Keble  above  7,  New- 


Appreciation  73 

man  above  8,  Wilberforce  above  e,  and  Williams 
above  ?.     The  most  valuable  of  the  pieces  are 
those  that  are  autobiographical  of  Newman,  but 
there  are  other  contributions  of  his  besides  the 
autobiographical  that  we  would  not  willingly  let 
die.     They   are  such   as   Moses,   The  Call  of 
David,  Judaism,  The    Elements,    Deeds   not 
Words,  and  some  more.     But,  on  the  other 
hand,  there  are  far  more,  both  of  his  and  of  his 
colleagues'    contributions,  that,  both  for  their 
writers*  sake,  as  well  as  for  the  sake  of  truth  and 
love,  had  better  have  been  buried  out  of  sight. 
Newman's  more  personal  pieces  are  full  of  re- 
ligious fear,  and  religious  doubt,  and  sometimes 
of  downright  religious  despair ;  at  their  best  they 
are  everything  but  apostolical.     From  first  to 
last  the  Lyra  is  political,  ecclesiastical,  clerical^ 
sacramental,  ascetic ;  but  it  is  impossible  to  let 
it  be  called  apostolical  without  a  loud  protest. 
You  may  hesitate  to  believe  that  the  work  of 
such  men  can,  with  any  fairness,  be  called  po- 
litical ;  but  that  description  of  the  book  is  not 
mine.     "  Do  not  mention  it,"  writes  Newman, 
"  but  we  have  hopes  of  making  the  Lyra  an 
effective,    quasi-political    engine,    without   any 
contribution   being   of  that   character."     And 
Mr.  Holt  Hutton,  who  loved  Newman  like  a 
father,  has  insight  and  honesty  enough  to  admit 


74  Newman's  Works 

that  several  of  Newman's  own  pieces  are  nothing 
other  than  "  theologico-political  anathemas." 
And  Mr.  Jacobs  in  an  admirable  Athenaum 
article  says  that  "  throughout  Newman's  An- 
glican period  the  ecclesiastical  things  that 
touched  him  most  nearly  were  not  things  of 
dogma,  but  lay  in  the  sphere  of  practical  poli- 
tics. At  every  point  of  his  career  it  was  some 
problem  in  the  relations  of  Church  and  State 
that  affected  him  most  strongly.  The  abolition 
of  the  Irish  bishoprics,  the  alliance  of  O'Con- 
nell  and  the  Whigs, — these  things,  and  things 
like  these,  are  the  turning-points  of  his  career. 
Even  the  diplomatic  reserve  and  economy  of 
truth  with  which  the  world  credited  him  for  so 
many  years  were  marks  of  the  ecclesiastical 
statesman,  not  of  the  religious  thinker."  There 
is  plenty  of  intellect  in  the  Lyra — with  such 
authors  it  could  not  be  otherwise ;  plenty  of 
scholarship  of  a  kind;  plenty  of  Old  Testa- 
ment, classical,  and  ecclesiastical  illustration  and 
allusion,  but  you  will  search  in  vain  for  the  apos- 
tolical element  in  it.  The  Lyra  is  too  much 
like  what  Augustine  found  the  father  of  New- 
man's style  to  be.  The  author  of  the  Confes- 
sions discovered  everything  in  Cicero  that  was 
delightful,  except  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ. 
And  that  name  of  all  names  is  far  too  little  to 


Appreciation  75 

be  found  in  the  Lyra  to  let  us  call  it,  of  all 
epithets,  apostolical.  The  Church  of  England 
and  the  Church  of  Rome  are  quite  sufficiently 
in  it  to  admit  of  its  being  truly  described  as 
ecclesiastical,  and  we  have  the  best  of  authority 
for  calling  it  quasi-political ;  but,  again,  I  will 
protest,  not  apostolical.  Isaac  Williams  wrote 
a  famous  tract  on  "  Reserve  in  communicating 
Religious  Knowledge,"  and  the  Lyra  authors 
are  all  so  many  illustrations  and  examples  of 
that  anti-apostolical  tract.  For  they  reserve 
and  exclude  altogether  the  things  that  the 
Apostle  always  puts  in  the  very  forefront  of 
every  Epistle  of  his.  Newman  says  that  the 
movement  needed  boldness.  So  it  did.  And 
it  needed  some  boldness  in  him  to  call  the  Lyra 
by  the  name  of  apostolical,  unless  it  was  so 
called  in  an  economy,  and  in  another  case  of  the 
editor's  irony. 

Yes  ;  call  the  Lyra  Judaica,  or  Patristica,  or 
Ecclesiastica,  or  Anglicana,  but  Apostolica  it 
never  is  in  so  much  as  a  single  page.  I  have 
sought  for  it,  but  I  have  not  found  one  single 
piece  among  all  the  179,  that  I  could  imagine 
the  Apostle  receiving  into  the  number  of  the 
psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual  songs  that  he 
taught  his  young  churches  to  sing.  Not  one. 
I  never  find  myself  chanting  a  Lyra  to  myself 


76  Newman's  Works 

when  I  again  come  to  myself  in  the  early 
morning.  An  Olney  hymn  or  a  Wesley  hymn 
often — '  Rock  of  Ages/  '  There  is  a  fountain 
filled  with  blood/  '  Just  as  I  am/  'Jesus,  Lover 
of  my  soul/  '  Jesus,  Thy  blood  and  righteous- 
ness,' '  How  sweet  the  name  of  Jesus  sounds,' 
*  Come,  my  soul,  thy  suit  prepare' — but  never 
once  a  Lyra  Apostolica^  nor  any  of  its  school, 
unless  it  is  '  New  every  morning  is  the  love,' 
or  '  Help  us  this  and  every  day  to  live  more 
nearly  as  we  pray.'  The  Lyra  will  no  doubt 
continue  for  a  time  to  be  studied  and  annotated 
by  experts  in  English  ecclesiastical  history, 
but  by  very  few  besides.  Whereas,  the  hymns 
I  have  named,  and  which  are  so  despised  by 
the  Tractarian  school,  will  last  as  long  as  the 
Church  of  Christ  lasts.  Both  the  Lyra^  and 
the  Christian  Tear^  and  the  Cathedral^  are  the 
poetry  of  a  school.  A  great  school  in  its  day. 
A  scholarly  school.  An  aristocratic  school. 
A  stately,  refined,  fastidious  school ;  but  still  a 
school.  A  caste,  as  those  it  despises  and 
tramples  upon  might  well  turn  upon  it  and  call 
it.  Yes ;  the  Lyra  is  the  production  of  a 
school,  of  a  caste,  and  of  an  occasion.  Neither 
the  Lyra,  nor  anything  of  its  kind,  is  truly 
Christian  and  Catholic.  You  could  not  trans- 
late  the  Lyra  into  another  language  than  the 


Appreciation  77 

English.  It  will  not  be  intelligible  to  another 
age  than  that  which  produced  it,  nor  to  another 
civilisation.  Whereas,  wherever  Paul's  Epis- 
tles are  preached,  if  they  are  preached  with  the 
understanding  and  the  spirit,  there  the  great 
hymns  I  have  named  will  come  to  the  mind 
like  the  mother-tongue  of  the  Evangelical 
worshipper.  This  is  not  said  in  any  deprecia- 
tion of  Newman,  or  Keble,  or  Williams,  or  any 
of  their  school.  I  only  say  this  to  lead  you  to 
give  to  the  Wesleys,  and  Newton,  and  Cowper, 
and  Toplady,  and  Zinzendorf,  and  Doddridge, 
and  Watts,  and  Bonar,  their  unchallengeably 
apostolic  places  in  your  worship  and  in  your 
love. 

Under  the  title  of  "  Schism  **  there  are  three 
very  characteristic  verses  in  the  Lyra  that  bear 
on  ourselves.  Scotland  is  "  Samaria,"  and  our 
Presbyterian  reformers  and  theologians  are  a 
"self-formed  priesthood.*'  Our  fathers  sinned 
in  carrying  out  the  Reformation,  and  we,  their 
children,  have  thus  lost  the  grace  that  seals 
"  the  holy  apostolic  line."  That  is  to  say, 
Knox,  and  Melville,  and  Bruce,  and  Ruther- 
ford, and  Halyburton,  and  the  Erskines,  and 
Boston,  and  Chalmers,  and  M'Cheyne,  were 
a  grace-forsaken  priesthood.  And  we,  their 
spiritual  children,  can  only  look  for  the  crumbs 


y8  Newman's  Works 

that  fall  from  the  CathoHc  table.  That  is  a 
specimen  of  the  religion  and  the  morals  and 
the  manners  of  the  Tractarian  lyre.  But,  then, 
two  can  play  at  that  unchurching  and  excom- 
municating game.  As  thus,  "  We  know  you 
only  as  heretics,"  said  M.  MourouviefF  of  the 
Holy  Synod  to  William  Palmer,  the  Tracta- 
rian deputy.  "  You  separated  from  the  Latin 
Church  three  hundred  years  ago,  as  the  Latins 
had  before  that  separated  from  the  Greeks. 
We  think  even  the  Latin  Church  heretical,  but 
you  are  an  apostasy  from  an  apostasy.  You 
are  a  descent  from  bad  to  worse."  And,  as  if 
taught  a  lesson  by  the  Greek  reception  of  their 
Tractarian  envoy,  or  else  as  visited  surely  by 
the  spirit  of  Christian  wisdom  and  Christian 
love,  Newman  afterwards  modified  somewhat 
his  "  Samaria "  effusion.  "  I  still  must  hold 
that  we  have  no  right  to  judge  of  others  at  this 
day,  as  we  would  have  judged  of  them  had  all 
of  us  lived  a  thousand  years  earlier.  I  do 
really  think,  for  instance,  that  in  the  Presbyte- 
rianism  of  Scotland  we  see  a  providential  phe- 
nomenon, the  growth  of  a  secondary  system 
unknown  to  St.  Austin ;  begun,  indeed,  not 
without  sin,  but  continued,  as  regards  the  many, 
ignorantly,  and  compatibly  with  some  portion 
of  the  true  faith."     Pitiful  enough,  and  repre- 


Appreciation  79 

hensible  enough,  you  will  say,  in  sucn  a  man, 
though  not  quite  so  insolent  as  the  original 
"  Samaria."  But  Newman  sometimes  came  to 
himself.  And  when  in  his  old  age  he  was  re- 
vising some  of  the  Tractarian  outbursts  of  his 
arrogant  and  hot-headed  youth,  he  is  compelled 
to  admit  again  and  again  that  he  had  no  justifi- 
cation for  a  great  deal  of  the  language  that  he 
employed  about  other  men  and  other  churches 
in  the  Lyra,  "  Their  common  bond  is  lack  of 
truth,''  said  Manning,  to  Gladstone's  horror. 
And,  really,  as  we  read  the  Lyra,  even  in  the 
cooled-down  air  of  our  remote  day,  we  are 
sometimes  tempted  to  add  to  our  own  horror, 
"  both  lack  of  truth  and  lack  of  love."  But 
a  truce  to  this.  For,  as  iEneas  replied  to 
Achilles — 

Long  in  the  field  of  words  we  may  contend. 
Reproach  is  infinite,  and  knows  no  end, 
Arm'd  or  with  truth  or  falsehood,  right  or  wrong  : 
So  voluble  a  weapon  is  the  tongue  ; 
Wounded  we  wound,  and  neither  side  can  fail. 
For  every  man  has  equal  strength  to  rail. 

I  can  honestly  assure  you  I  have  no  pleasure 
in  repeating  to  you  these  railings  of  Newman 
and  his  Tractarian  allies.  I  have  not  told  you 
nearly  all,  nor  by  any  means  the  worst,  of  that 


8o  Newman's  Works 

kind.  I  could  not  help  telling  you  somewhat, 
if  I  was  to  tell  you  the  truth.  But  you  should 
judge  of  that  time,  and  of  the  spirit  of  that 
time,  for  yourselves.  And  you  have  an  admir- 
able opportunity  for  studying  the  intellectual 
and  moral  and  religious  qualities  of  the  Lyra  at 
least,  in  a  cheap,  scholarly,  beautiful,  edition  of 
that  book  just  published  by  Messrs.  Methuen, 
and  admirably  edited  by  Canon  Scott  Holland. 
The  little  volume  contains,  besides  the  editor's 
very  able  preface,  an  invaluable  Critical  Note 
by  Professor  Beeching.  Critical,  but  on  much 
safer  and  much  pleasanter  lines  of  criticism 
than  those  I  have  been  compelled  to  go  out 
upon  in  passing. 

Very  much  what  the  Lyra  Apostolka  is  in 
poetry,  that  the  T^r  acts  for  the  Times  are  in  prose. 
Like  the  Lyra,  the  'Tracts  are  the  productions 
of  several  authors  ;  like  the  Lyra^  the  Tracts 
are  contingent  and  occasional ;  and,  like  the 
Lyra^  they  sway  backwards  and  forwards  from 
the  very  best  tempers  of  mind  and  styles  of 
writing  to  the  very  worst.  The  motto  of  the 
Tracts  is  not  taken  out  of  the  Iliad  indeed,  but 
they  have  the  same  battle-note  and  boast  of 
coming  war  in  them.  And,  following  up  their 
warlike   motto,    very     much    the    same    good 


Appreciation  8 1 

qualities  are  found  in  the  'Tracts  as  in  the 
poems,  and  very  much  the  same  bad  qualities. 
Newman's  own  remarkable  character ;  his  aris- 
tocratic, refined,  fastidious,  severe,  sometimes 
scornful,  and  sometimes  fierce  and  reckless, 
temper,  finds  its  full  scope  in  the  Tracts^  just 
as  it  does  in  the  whole  of  the  Tractarian  move- 
ment, and  in  the  whole  of  its  literature. 

To  begin  with,  we  all  see  now  that  Newman, 
in  his  passionate  impetuosity, — "vehement  feel- 
ings "  is  his  own  expression, — rushed  into  the 
battle  before  he  had  proved  his  armour.  He 
launched  out  into  the  great  Tractarian  enter- 
prise very  ill  prepared  for  its  difficulties  and 
its  dangers.  In  a  very  able  paper  printed  in 
the  North  British  Review  for  October,  1864, 
Dr.  Rainy  has  pointed  out  how  scandalously 
ill-furnished  Newman  was  for  what  he  set  out 
on  with  such  confidence.  Dr.  Rainy  shows 
how  little  ballast  Newman  had  on  board,  either 
of  theological  learning,  or  of  a  disciplined 
judgment,  in  such  difficult  matters.  And  he 
out  on  such  a  wide  sea,  swept  with  such  storms, 
and  liable  to  be  suddenly  struck  with  such 
unforeseen  currents.  "  It  is  a  fact,"  writes  Dr. 
Rainy,  "  and  not  a  creditable  one,  that,  owing 
largely  to  the  want  of  regular  theological  train- 
ing in  the  English   Church,  there  is  very  little 


82  Newman's  Works 

tuition,  and  very  little  literature,  fitted  to  sug- 
gest to  the  minds  of  her  young  divines  the 
range  of  theological  responsibilities  that  may 
attach  to  the  positions  they  take  up,  and  the 
alternatives  they  embrace.  And  a  certain  allow- 
ance may  be  reasonable  on  that  score."  Newman 
himself,  indeed,  in  his  own  candid  and  con- 
fidential way,  admits  as  much  in  his  Apologia, 
He  confesses  to  us  that  he  was  "taken  in"  by 
those  who  should  have  known  better,  and  that 
he,  in  his  turn,  took  in  others.  He  sometimes 
uses  strong  language  about  himself  in  this 
matter  when  in  after  days  he  is  in  a  confidential 
and  rhetorical  mood  ;  but  Dr.  Rainy's  powerful 
paper  only  proves  the  simple  and  severe  truth 
of  what  Newman,  sometimes  somewhat  too 
jauntily,  and  in  a  literary  way,  admits  about 
himself. 

The  first  Tract  has  this  for  its  title-page  and 
headline,  "  Thoughts  on  the  Ministerial  Com- 
mission, respectfully  addressed  to  the  Clergy." 
And  its  author, — and  there  is  no  mistaking  his 
pen, — commences  thus :  "  I  am  but  one  of 
yourselves — a  Presbyter ;  and  therefore  I  con- 
ceal my  name,  lest  I  should  take  too  much 
on  myself  by  speaking  in  my  own  person. 
Yet  speak  I  must ;  for  the  times  are  very  evil, 
yet  no  one  speaks  against  them." 


Appreciation  83 

Now,  when  a  man  born  and  brought  up  as 
Newman  had  been  born  and  brought  up  ;  born 
and  brought  up  in  an  Evangelical  household, 
and  educated  for  the  Christian  ministry,  and 
by  this  time  by  far  the  foremost  preacher  in 
the  English  Church ;  and  with  England  and 
Oxford  in  the  state  they  were  still  in,  notwith- 
standing all  that  Whitefield,  and  the  Wesleys, 
and  Newton,  and  Scott,  had  done  ; — when  such 
a  man  begins  a  series  of  tracts  addressed  to 
his  fellow-ministers  in  the  way  we  have  seen,  I 
would  have  looked  for  a  succession  of  writings 
that  would  have  been  meat  and  drink  to  every 
true  minister  of  Jesus  Christ  in  England.  I 
see  now  that  it  would  have  been  preposterous 
and  impossible  to  expect  such  a  service  from  a 
man  in  the  fanatical  and  anti-evangelical  spirit 
that  Newman  was  in  at  that  time.  Yet  it  would 
have  been  but  an  instance  of  believing  all 
things,  and  hoping  all  things,  to  have  looked 
for  such  a  result  as  I  have  described  from  such 
a  commencement.  With  that  charity  in  my 
heart,  I  would  have  looked  for  a  nineteenth- 
century  Reformed  Paslor  from  Newman's  pen  ; 
or  a  series  of  letters  worthy  to  stand  beside 
William  Law's  Letter  to  a  Young  Minister^  or  a 
succession  of  utterances  like  Jeremy  Taylor's 
noble  Addresses  to  his  clergy.     I  would  have 


84  Newman's  Works 

encouraged  myself  to  hope  that  an  early  Tract 
would  have  been  given  to  Bedford  ;  and,  con- 
sidering the  state  of  the  rural  parishes  of  Eng- 
land at  that  time,  another  to  Kidderminster ; 
and,  still  considering  the  state  of  the  mining 
villages  of  the  north,  another  to  Wesley  and 
his  truly  apostolic  work.  But  how  bitterly 
would  my  hopes  have  been  disappointed  !  For, 
not  only  did  the  successors  of  those  apostolic 
men  get  no  help  from  the  'TractSy  but  their 
New  Testament  preaching  and  pastorate  were 
in  every  possible  way  belittled  and  sneered  at ; 
their  defects  and  failures  were  dwelt  upon,  ex- 
aggerated, and  held  up  to  scorn  and  contempt, 
in  a  way  you  would  not  credit.  Even  Hooker 
himself,  truly  Evangelical  as  he  was  at  heart, 
was  so  carried  away  with  the  controversy  to 
which  he  had  committed  himself,  that  even  he 
spake  almost  as  unbecomingly  of  the  Puritan 
pulpit  as  Newman  and  Froude  spake.  Both 
the  high  Anglican  of  Hooker's  day,  and  the 
Tractarian  of  Newman's  day,  fell  before  the 
temptation  to  exalt  some  of  the  other  functions 
of  the  ministerial  commission  above  its  always 
first,  and  always  fundamental,  function,  even 
the  immediate  and  urgent  preaching  of  Jesus 
Christ  and  Him  crucified.  All  students  for 
the  Christian  pulpit,  and  all  occupants  of  the 


Appreciation  85 

Christian  pulpit,  and  all  intelligent  Christian 
men,  should  have  by  heart  Coleridge's  noble 
rebuke  of  Hooker  himself  in  this  matter. 
Coleridge's  splendid  services  to  Reformation 
and  Evangelical  religion  have  never  to  this  day 
been  adequately  acknowledged  in  England. 
Coleridge's  incomparable  services  as  a  critic  and 
an  annotator  were  not  confined  to  Shakespeare 
and  Milton.  I  like  him  best  when  he  is  writ- 
ing notes  on  Luther,  and  Hooker,  and  Taylor, 
and  Baxter,  and  Bunyan,  and  '  A  Barrister  '  ; 
but  that  prince  of  critics  is  nowhere  better  than 
just  on  Hooker  in  the  matter  in  hand.  Born 
preachers,  like  Hooker  and  Newman,  will 
prove  themselves  to  be  born  preachers,  all  per- 
nicious influences  notwithstanding.  But  the 
ordinary  occupant  of  the  Christian  pulpit  has 
small  need  to  have  his  divine  work  made  little 
of  by  men  to  whom  he  looks  up  as  his  masters 
in  Israel.  And  when  Newman  escapes  out  of 
the  Tractarian  paddock,  and  gives  full  expres- 
sion to  all  that  is  in  his  heart  about  the  great- 
ness of  preaching,  how  nobly,  how  inspiringly, 
how  memorably  to  all  times,  he  speaks  !  How 
like  himself !  But,  from  some  of  the  'Tracts,  you 
would  actually  think  that  the  Evangelical  pul- 
pit had  been  an  evil  invention  of  the  Puritans, 
and  that  the  doctrines  of  grace  were  a  device. 


86  Newman's  Works 

if  not  actually  of  the  great  enemy  himself,  then 
of  some  of  those  middle  and  half-fallen  spirits 
of  his  who  sometimes  take  possession  of  nations 
and  churches,  and  of  whom  Newman  has  writ- 
ten such  characteristic  chapters  of  national  and 
ecclesiastical  demonology.  At  the  same  time, 
and  with  all  that,  let  this  be  said  here,  and  said 
with  all  possible  emphasis,  and  with  the  most 
profound  thankfulness,  that  the  Tractarian  pul- 
pit and  press  are  at  one  with  the  Reformed 
and  Evangelical  pulpit  and  press  on  the  great 
foundation-stones  and  corner-stones  of  the 
Christian  faith.  On  God;  on  the  Son  of  God; 
on  the  sin-atoning  death  of  the  Son  of  God ; 
and  on  the  Person,  if  not  always  on  the  work, 
of  the  Holy  Ghost.  It  is  at  this  crucial  ques- 
tion in  the  Westminster  Shorter  Catechism 
that  the  Evangelical  and  the  Tractarian  pul- 
pits part  company.  This  question — "  How 
doth  the  Spirit  apply  to  us  the  redemption 
purchased  by  Christ?"  The  Evangelical,  and 
I  feel  sure,  the  Scriptural,  if  not  the  patristic 
and  traditionary  and  ecclesiastical  answer  is  by 
our  effectual  calling ;  that  is  to  say,  "  By  en- 
lightening our  minds  in  the  knowledge  of 
Christ,  by  renewing  our  wills,  and  by  persuad- 
ing and  enabling  us  to  embrace  Jesus  Christ 
as  He  is  offered  to  us  in  the  Gospel."     And, 


Appreciation  87 

then,  baptism  comes  in,  as  it  comes  in  in  Script- 
ure, as  a  sign  and  a  seal  of  what  has  already 
been  wrought  by  the  hand  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
in  the  renewed  soul.  And,  then,  the  Lord's 
Supper  comes  in  from  time  to  time  to  strengthen 
and  to  build  up  the  renewed  and  believing  soul. 
Whereas,  the  Tractarian  teaching  is — leaning 
too  much,  as  it  does,  on  the  least  Evangelical 
of  the  fathers,  on  the  least  Evangelical  line  of 
tradition — that  the  soul  is  united  to  Christ  in 
baptism,  when  that  ordinance  is  administered 
by  the  hand  of  a  true  priest,  through  whose 
hand  alone  the  Holy  Ghost  may  be  expected 
to  operate.  And  so  begun,  so  on.  Newman 
tells  one  of  his  correspondents  in  1833,  that  he 
has  started  the  tracts  with  what  he  calls  "  an 
indirect  inculcation  of  apostolical  principles.'' 
But  if  he  was  quite  sure  that  they  were  "  apos- 
tolical principles,"  why  did  he  feel  any  need  to 
inculcate  them  indirectly  ?  The  Lyra  also,  he 
tells  us  in  confidence,  was  undertaken  "  with  a 
view  of  catching  people  when  unguarded." 
Now,  after  all  allowance  is  made  for  his  para- 
doxicalness,  and  playfulness,  and  banter,  in 
his  private  letters  to  his  intimate  friends,  these 
somewhat  remarkable  terms  of  expression,  in 
the  circumstances,  have  their  own  significance. 
Mr.  Holt  Hutton,  no  Puritan  certainly,  either 


88  Newman's  Works 

in  the  doctrine  or  the  discipline  he  preached  in 
the  Spectator  for  so  long  and  with  such  attrac- 
tiveness and  power,  while  he  almost  worships 
Newman,  honestly  admits  that  the  Tractarian 
was  essentially  a  clerical  movement — clerical  to 
the  core,  is  his  very  word  about  it.  And  he  goes 
on  to  make,  for  him,  this  very  remarkable  ad- 
mission that  "  the  Tractarian  was  a  much  more 
pronounced  and  self-conscious,  not  to  say  al- 
most aggressive  and  over-pretentious,  type  of 
sacerdotalism,  than  that  of  a  Church  wherein 
direct  Apostolical  Succession  had  been  the 
plainly  and  universally  avowed  basis  of  the 
priesthood  for  nearly  two  thousand  years."  In 
short,  that  Tractarianism  was  more  Popish 
than  Popery  itself  There  is  a  large  literature 
on  the  Notes  of  the  True  and  Only  Apostolic 
Church,  and  the  'Tracts  for  the  'Times  belong  to 
that  literature,  and  are  almost  wholly  taken 
up  with  those  Notes.  But,  then,  over  against 
that  large  literature  there  is  a  not  small  and  a 
not  unmasterly  literature  on  the  Notes  of  the 
truly  Regenerate  and  Gracious  Soul.  In  Bax- 
ter's Saints'  Rest^  an  English  classic,  there  is  a 
characteristically  acute  chapter  on  those  notes 
and  marks  and  tokens  of  such  a  soul.  The 
thorough-going  student  of  these  subjects,  and 
they  will  repay  such  a  student,  will  do  well  to 


Appreciation  89 

master  Baxter  alongside  of  the  "Tracts ;  and  he 
should  add  to  Baxter  an  old  Scottish  classic  re- 
published the  other  day  in  Inverness,  which 
once  read,  will  be  often  returned  to — 'The  Mem- 
oirs of  James  Fraser  of  Brea,  And  I  will  not 
prejudge  this  matter  to  such  a  student,  but  will 
leave  him  to  say  whether  or  no  the  Tractarians 
are  as  Scriptural,  and  as  able,  and  as  scholarly, 
and  as  sanctifying,  in  their  identification  of  the 
Church,  as  the  Puritans  are  in  their  identifica- 
tion of  the  soul.  Let  the  Anglican  student 
master  Baxter  and  Brea,  and  let  the  Evangeli- 
cal student  master  the  Tracts  for  the  Times,  and 
then  they  will  judge  for  themselves  between 
the  Church  and  the  soul. 

Newman's  sermons,  of  which  all  the  world 
has  heard  the  fame,  are  contained  in  twelve 
volumes.  There  are  eight  volumes  of  Parochial 
and  Plain  Sermons,  one  volume  of  Sermons  on 
Subjects  of  the  Day,  one  volume  of  University 
Sermons,  and  two  volumes  of  Roman  Catholic 
Sermons — the  one  volume  entitled  Sermons  to 
Mixed  Congregations,  and  the  other  Sermons 
preached  on  Various  Occasions,  The  very  titles 
of  Newman's  sermons  are  a  study  in  homilet- 
ics.  To  read  and  ponder  his  simple  titles  is  a 
stimulus  to  the  mind  of  the  ministerial  reader. 


90  Newman's  Works 

A  carpenter  friend  of  mine  once  told  me  that 
sometimes  on  a  Sabbath  night  he  took  down  a 
volume  of  Newman's  sermons  just  for  the 
benefit  and  the  delight  of  reading  over  their 
titles.  To  read  Longmans'  detailed  catalogue 
of  Newman's  Parochial,  and  University,  and 
Catholic  Sermons  is  in  itself  a  great  lesson  in 
pulpit  literature.  Looked  at  as  pure  literature, 
Newman's  St.  Mary's  sermons  are  not  far  from 
absolute  perfection ;  but  looked  at  as  pulpit 
work,  as  preaching  the  Gospel,  they  are  full 
of  the  most  serious,  and  even  fatal,  defects. 
With  all  their  genius,  with  all  their  truly  noble 
and  enthralling  characteristics,  they  are  not, 
properly  speaking.  New  Testament  preaching 
at  all.  Even  as  pure  literature  their  most 
serious  fault  steals  in  and  infects  and  stains 
them.  The  very  best  of  the  sermons  are  con- 
tinually tainted  with  some  impertinent  aside 
at  some  Evangelical  truth,  or  at  some  real, 
or  imagined,  or  greatly  exaggerated,  defects  in 
the  doctrine  or  in  the  life  of  the  Evangelical 
preachers  of  his  day.  All  the  world  knows 
how  poor  Kingsley  was  annihilated.  But 
though  I  cannot  forget  his  terrible  punish- 
ment, neither  can  I  forget  his  extraordinarily 
apt  description  of  this  most  unpleasant  feature 
in  Newman's  controversial  manner,  especially 


Appreciation  91 

in  his  sermons.  Newman  is  too  skilful  a  con- 
troversialist to  discharge  his  assault  from  a 
catapult,  as  he  accused  Dr.  Pusey  of  discharg- 
ing his  olive  branch.  Newman's  style  sings 
round  you,  musical  and  delicate  as  a  mosquito's 
wing,  and  alights  on  you  with  feet  as  fine.  In 
Kingsley's  very  words,  which  so  detected  and 
angered  Newman,  a  phrase,  an  epithet,  a  lit- 
tle barbed  arrow,  will  be  delivered  on  you  in 
passing  as  with  his  finger-tip.  Nothing  could 
be  better  said  of  Newman's  treatment  of 
Evangelical  doctrines  and  Evangelical  preach- 
ers in  many  of  his  sermons.  How  often  his 
most  admiring  and  revering  reader  is  made  to 
feel  both  pain  and  shame  as  he  comes  across 
such  stains  as  these,  and  that  on  pages  other- 
wise of  the  most  perfect  truth  and  beauty. 
Newman's  sermons,  in  some  respects,  are  sim- 
ply incomparable  in  the  literature  of  preaching. 
As  an  analysis  of  the  heart  of  man,  and  as  a 
penetrating  criticism  of  human  life,  their  equal 
is  nowhere  to  be  found.  But,  with  all  that, 
they  lack  the  one  all-essential  element  of  all 
true  preaching — the  message  to  sinful  man  con-^ 
cerning  the  free  grace  of  God.  That  message 
was  the  one  thing  that  differentiated  the  Apos- 
tle's  preaching  from  all  the  other  so-called 
preaching   of  his  day.     And   that    one   thing 


92  Newman's  Works 

which  has  been  the  touchstone  of  all  true 
preaching  ever  since  the  Apostle's  day,  and 
will  be  to  the  end  of  the  world,  that  is  all  but 
totally  lacking  in  Newman's  sermons.  It  is  a 
bold  thing  to  say,  but  let  it  be  said  since  it  is 
true,  that  the  St.  Mary's  sermons  are  like  the 
Lyra  and  the  'Tracts  in  this,  that  they  are  the 
outcome  of  a  movement  and  of  an  occasion ; 
and  so  far  as  they  are  that,  they  are  neither 
truly  Catholic  as  sermons,  nor  truly  classical 
as  literature.  At  their  best  they  carry  with  them 
the  limitations  and  the  restrictions  of  a  school. 
They  are  the  manifestoes  and  the  proclama- 
tions of  a  party,  and  they  too  often  exhibit  the 
spirit  and  the  temper  of  a  party.  So  much  so, 
that  with  all  their  royal  right  and  power  of 
giving  the  law  to  English  homiletical  and  rhe- 
torical literature ;  with  all  their,  not  seldom, 
sovereign  splendour  of  thought  and  style ;  and 
though,  in  all  these  fine  qualities,  they  may  last 
as  long  as  the  language  lasts  ;  at  the  same  time, 
they  will  not  be  fully  understood  where  the 
Tractarian  movement  is  not  understood.  They 
will  be  read  for  their  literature,  as  the  Lyra  and 
as  some  of  the  Tracts  are  read ;  but  thousands 
of  hints,  and  touches,  and  turns  in  them,  di- 
rected by  the  preacher  against  the  religion  of 
the  England  and  Scotland  of  his  day,  will  only 


Appreciation  93 

be  fully  apprehended  and  appreciated  by  theo- 
logians and  ecclesiastical  students.     When  we 
do  come  on  a  truly  Pauline  and  Evangelical 
sermon,   or  such  a  part  of  a  sermon,  what  a 
treat  it  is  ;  what  a  pure  intellectual  and  spiritual 
joy  !     But  how  seldom  that  unmixed  joy  comes 
to  the  reader  of  Newman's  sermons,  only  they 
know  who  yearn  above  all  things  to  see    the 
greatest  of  gifts  engaged  in  the  greatest  of  ser- 
vices. 
r^    The  finer  and  the  more  fastidious  your  mind 
/    is,  the  more  you  will  enjoy  Newman's  sermons. 
I     But  the  more  burdened  and  broken  your  heart 
)    is,  and  especially  with  your  secret  sinfulness, 
A   the  less  will  you  find  in  them  that  which,  above 
I  all  things  in  heaven  or  earth,  your  heart  needs. 
VjHad  the  substance  and  the  spirit  of  Newman's 
sermons  been  but  half  as  good  as  their  style, 
what  a  treasure  the  St.  Mary's  sermons  would 
have  been  to   all  time !     As  it  is,  they  are  a 
splendid  literature  in  many  respects  ;  but  one 
thing  they  are  not,  they  are  not  what  God  in- 
tends the  Gospel  of  His  Son  to  be  to  all  sinful 
and  miserable  men.     After  all  is  said  in  praise 
of  these  extraordinary  sermons,  this  remains, 
that  Newman's  constant  doctrine  is  that  doctrine 
which  the  Apostle  discarded  with  anathemas, 
— salvation  by  works,  whether  legal  or  evan- 


94  Newman's  Works 

gelical  works.  And  almost  more  did  he  discard 
and  denounce  salvation  by  austerities,  by  gratu- 
itous self-severities,  and  by  fear  rather  than  by 
faith,  and  that  faith  working  by  love,  and  peace, 
and  joy.  When  I  am  again  overtaken  of  one 
of  my  besetting  sins  ;  when  the  sorrows  of  death 
again  compass  me,  and  the  pains  of  hell  take 
hold  of  me,  I  never  take  down  Newman^s  ser- 
mons for  my  recovery  and  my  comfort.  Never 
once.  But  I  have  a  silver  casket  like  that  in 
which  Alexander  the  Great  carried  about  Homer 
under  his  pillow,  and  in  it  I  keep  no  Lyra  of 
all  the  hundred  and  eighty,  and  no  Tract  of  all 
the  ninety,  but  two  or  three  little  books  that 
Newman  and  his  Tractarian  school  never  men- 
tion but  with  contempt  and  scorn.  And  one 
of  these  Homers  of  mine  is  that  genuine  apostle 
and  minister  of  Jesus  Christ  who  laid  the  true 
foundation  in  Hursley  two  hundred  years  be- 
fore, but  on  which  Keble,  and  Froude,  and 
Newman,  built  up  so  much  wood  and  hay  and 
stubble.  The  following  letter  will  help  to  illus- 
trate what  I  am  now  saying : — 

"  The  Engadine ;  Sabbath  Night. 

"  Dear  Mr.  Smellie, — Though  it  is  only 
some  ten  days  since  I  read  Guthrie  in  your  de- 
lightful edition,  I  have  returned  to  him  to-day 


Appreciation  95 

to  my  great  reassurance  and  peace  of  mind. 
The  occasion  was  this.  I  had  been  working  on 
Newman  all  last  week.  And  so  dazzling  to  me 
is  his  writing,  and  so  unsettling  is~  his  "dbctnne 
""oFsaving  jfaith,  that  he  had  disconcerted  and 
distressed  me  not  a  little  ;  indeed,  far  too  much. 
I  am  as  susceptible  to  the  influence  of  a  great 
author  as  Newman  was  himself.  In  the  ab- 
sence of  public  worship  this  morning  my  eye 
fell  on  Guthrie  again,  and  I  have  spent  the  day 
with  him.  In  his  sectarian  and  sophistical  lines 
on  '  Samaria  *  Newman  calls  our  great  Scottish 
preachers  a  self-formed  priesthood,  and  tells  us 
that  we,  through  our  fathers'  sins  at  the  time  of 
the  Reformation,  have  lost  the  grace  that  runs 
in  the  Apostolic  line.  Now,  if  Guthrie  has  lost 
the  doctrine  and  the  life  of  grace,  I  do  not  know 
who  has  preserved  that  doctrine  and  that  life,  or 
where,  among  the  living  or  the  dead,  I  am  to 
seek  for  it  when  in  my  great  need  of  that  doctrine 
and  that  life.  Would  that  Newman  had  sancti- 
fied his  fascinating  gifts  to  preach  to  England 
the  Gospel  that  William  Guthrie  preached  to 
Scotland,  and  will  preach  to  her  as  long  as  Scot- 
land lasts  !  Would  that  his  fine  mind  had  been 
evangelised  and  dedicated  to  such  a  service  as 
*  The  Great  Interest.*  I  cannot  tell  you  how 
much  I  have  enjoyed  that  noble  book  to-day. 


96  Newman's  Works 

I  always  enjoy  it,  as  you  know ;  but  my  class- 
studies  last  week  had  put  me  into  a  posture  of 
mind  and  into  a  state  of  heart  which,  together, 
exceptionally  prepared  me  for  the  rare  enjoy- 
ment that  your  Guthrie  has  again  given  me. 
Newman's  sermons  are  on  my  table,  but  Mar- 
shall and  Guthrie  are  there  also  to  more  than 
counterbalance  them.  Newman  is  much  to  me  ; 
but  these  two  books  are  '  my  Gospel,'  as  Paul 
said,  and  as  he  would  say  again  and  again  if  he 
came  into  my  room  this  Lord's  day.  I  am 
as  sure  they  are  his  gospel  as  that  I  have  hands 
and  feet,  as  Newman  said  about  his  conversion. 
Marshall  and  Guthrie  always  melt  me  and  draw 
me  back  to  Christ ;  just  as  Newman  so  often 
hardens  me  and  darkens  me  and  stumbles  me, 
and  makes  Christ  look  stern  on  me,  even  from 
the  crucifix.  Newman,  in  his  own  way,  repays 
me  all  my  study  of  him ;  but  it  has  often  been 
at  great  pain  to  me,  if  not  great  risk  and  cost. 
Newman,  if  it  were  possible  to  me  now,  would 
still  set  me  on  going  about  to  establish  my 
own  righteousness ;  a  folly  and  a  madness  I 
am  only  too  prone  to  fall  into.  But  Marshall 
and  Guthrie  convince  and  encourage  me  again, 
that,  on  the  spot,  and  at  this  moment,  I 
must  simply  submit  myself  to  be  justified 
absolutely  before    God   by  the   righteousness 


Appreciation  97 

of  Another  than  myself,  and  that  other  God*s 
own  Son. 

"  Forgive  this  Sabbath  night  explosion  ;  I 
could  not  keep  it  back. — Dear  Mr.  Editor, 
indebtedly  yours,         Alexander  Whyte." 

Newman's  preaching — and  I  say  it  with 
more  pain  than  I  can  express — never  once 
touches  the  true  core,  and  real  and  innermost 
essence,  of  the  Gospel.  The  Epistle  to  the 
Romans,  the  "  Acropolis,"  as  Olshausen  calls  it, 
of  the  Gospel,  need  never  have  been  written  as 
far  as  Newman's  exposition  of  it  is  concerned. 
The  righteousness  of  Christ,  of  which  that 
glorious  Epistle  is  full,  need  never  have  been 
worked  out  by  Him  for  all  that  those  enthralled 
audiences  in  St.  Mary's  ever  heard  of  it.  There 
is  a  whole  shining  chain  of  Gospel  texts  that 
Newman  never  touches  on,  or  only  touches  on 
them — I  shrink  from  saying  it — to  misread 
them  and  misapply  them.  Moses  was  never 
dressed  up  in  such  ornaments  before;  never 
even  in  his  own  day  and  dispensation.  The 
old  lawgiver  would  not  know  himself,  he  is  so 
beautified  and  bedecked  by  Newman's  style. 
But,  all  the  time,  he  is  Moses.  All  the  time, 
with  all  his  ornaments,  he  still  carries  his  whip 
of  scorpions  hidden  away  among  his  beautiful 


98  Newman's  Works 

garments.  Do  and  live  !  Disobey  and  die  !  and 
he  draws  his  sword  on  me  as  he  says  it.  Mount 
of  Transfiguration  and  all,  Moses  has  not 
changed  his  nature  one  iota,  nor  his  voice  one  ac- 
cent, at  least  not  as  far  as  Newman's  Oxford  pul- 
pit is  concerned.  "  The  soul  that  sinneth  it  shall 
die"  is,  somewhere  or  other,  and  in  some  more  or 
less  musical  note  or  other,  in  every  sermon  of 
Newman's.  The  sinner-condemning  law  is  his 
mark  in  every  sermon,  and  tract,  and  Lyra 
verse,  of  his.  So  much  is  this  the  case,  that 
when  any  of  my  class  or  congregation  come  to 
tell  me  that,  at  last,  their  sin  has  found  them 
out,  and  ask  me  what  book  they  will  henceforth 
keep  beside  them  for  their  direction  and  com- 
fort,— do  you  think  I  ever  give  them  Newman's 
Lectures  on  Justification,  or  even  a  volume  of  his 
Parochial  and  Plain  Sermons  ?  I  wish  I  could. 
I  have  given  not  a  few  of  Newman's  books 
to  young  men  in  other  circumstances,  and  at 
other  stages, — ^he  Idea  of  a  University y  'The 
Historical  Sketches ,  'The  Athanasius,  The  Univer- 
sity Sermons,  The  Gerontius,  and  so  on  ;  but 
never  one  of  his  beautiful  books  to  a  broken- 
hearted and  inconsolable  sinner.  I  have  often 
given  to  men  in  dead  earnest,  books  of  the 
heart  and  soul  that  Newman  and  his  Tractarian 
school  would  scorn  to  name :     The   Pilgrim^ s 


Appreciation  99 

Progress,  Grace  Abounding,  "The  'Ten  Virgins, 
Christ  Dying,  "The  Trial  and  'Triumph  of  Faith, 
'The  Gospel  Mystery,  The  Cardiphonia,  The  Force 
of  Truth,  The  Marrow,  Chalmers's  Life,  Haly- 
burton's  Life,  Boston's  Life,  M^Cheyne's  Life, 
The  Olney  Hymns,  a  sermon  of  Spurgeon's, 
a  tract  of  Ryle's  ;  but  a  volume  of  Newman's 
never ;  no  nor  the  Lyra  Apostolica,  nor  even  the 
Christian  Year, 

Newman's  Tractarian  and  unevangelical 
preaching  always  sends  me  back  to  his  con- 
version. You  know  what  he  says  about  his 
conversion  himself,  and  in  what  memorable 
English.  I  will  not  venture  to  tell  you  all  that 
I  sometimes  think  and  feel  about  that  con- 
version. I  will  not  take  it  upon  me  to  say  that 
Newman  never  was,  root  and  branch,  mind  and 
conscience,  imagination  and  heart,  completely 
converted  and  completely  surrendered  up  to 
Jesus  Christ,  the  alone  Redeemer  and  Right- 
eousness of  sinful  men.  Only,  I  have  some- 
times pictured  to  myself  what  an  eloquent,  im- 
pressive, and  unanswerable  case  the  author  of 
the  Apologia  could  have  made  out  against  him- 
self ever  having  been  apostolically  and  evangel- 
ically converted  at  all, — had  he  set  himself  to 
make  out  such  a  case.  And  if,  in  his  restless 
versatility  of  mind,  Newman  had  ever  turned 


loo  Newman's  Works 

to  be  an  Agnostic,  say,  and  had  he  then  gone 
back,  and  reviewed,  and  examined,  and  repudi- 
ated, his  position  and  his  experience  as  a  con- 
vert to  Christ,  as  he  has  reviewed,  and  exam- 
ined, and  repudiated,  his  position  and  his 
experience  as  an  Anglican ;  had  he  added 
another  chapter  of  retractation  and  explanation 
to  his  Autobiography,  he  could  easily  have 
made  out  an  unanswerable  case  against  the  real- 
ity and  the  validity  of  what  he  had  at  one  time 
rejoiced  in  as  his  complete  and  abiding  con- 
version. He  would  have  admitted  that  he 
became  a  genuine  Theist,  even  in  his  boyhood, 
if  ever  there  was  a  Theist.  He  would  have 
copied  into  his  second  Apologia  that  classical 
page  in  his  first  Apologia,  in  which  he  tells  us 
with  what  intensity  of  faith  and  feeling  he  came 
to  realise  to  himself  the  existence  and  the  omni- 
presence of  God.  And  how,  from  that  profound 
and  overpowering  conviction  and  impression  of 
the  presence  of  God,  his  heart  never  swerved 
for  one  hour.  And  not  only  was  he  a  great 
believer  in  the  existence  and  the  nearness  of 
Almighty  God  ;  but,  as  time  went  on,  and  as 
his  patristic  studies  began  to  bear  their  proper 
fruit,  he  came  to  believe  also,  and  to  preach, 
those  two  foundation  doctrines  of  the  Christian 
faith — our  Lord's  Divine  Sonship  and  His  sub- 


AppreCiatitJn'  ibl 

stitutionary  and  sin-atoning  death — as  they  have 
seldom,  if  ever,  been  preached.  But  Newman 
would  have  claimed  for  his  honesty,  and  it 
would  have  given  him  a  fine  scope  for  his 
subtlety  of  mind  and  for  his  delight  in  distinc- 
tions, to  have  made  it  out  to  demonstration 
that,  at  his  best,  he  never  went  further  than 
the  strictly  limited  doctrine  of  the  Fathers  on 
the  Person  and  the  Work  of  Christ.  And  the 
real  distinction,  and  characteristic  difference,  of 
a  Pauline  convert,  he  would  have  pressed  upon 
us,  is  not  that  he  luminously  believes  in  the 
existence  and  the  nearness  of  his  Creator,  and 
his  Lawgiver,  and  his  Judge :  or  even  in  the 
Incarnation  and  Atonement  of  the  Son  of  God, 
and  then  submits  himself  to  a  life  of  self-chosen 
austerities  and  self-denials ;  but  he  is  the  true 
Pauline  believer  who  submits  himself,  as  Paul 
could  not  get  his  converts  to  do,  and  to  continue 
to  do,  to  be  justified  before  God,  first  and  last, 
by  the  imputed  righteousness  of  the  Son  of 
God,  and  by  that  alone.  Newman  could  easily 
have  filled  an  unanswerable  chapter  of  his  new 
Apologia  with  a  long  catena  of  passages  out  of 
/his  St.  Mary's  sermons,  in  which,  with  all  his 
Winning  eloquence,  and  with  all  his  silencing 
/argumentations,  he  persistently  put  forward 
(jvorks  where  Paul  puts  faith  ;  and  merit  where 


102  Newman's  Works 

SPaul  puts  grace ;  and  doubt  and  feat-  where 
T'aul  puts  love  and  hope  and  full  assurance. 
(Passage  after  passage  in  which  he  employed  all 
his  incomparable  powers  of  sarcasm  against  the 
Reformation  preaching  of  Paul's  palmary  doc- 
trine of  justification  by  faith  alone  ;  a  doctrine 
that  the  chief  of  the  Apostles  protested  contin- 
ually was  his  special  and  peculiar  Gospel ;  and, 
indeed,  that  there  is  no  other  Gospel  to  be 
called  a  Gospel.  Newman  could  have  boldly 
and  successfully  defied  any  Lutheran  or  Cal- 
vinist  of  us  all,  to  point  out  one  single  sermon 
of  his  on  the  righteousness  of  Christ,  or  on 
faith,  or  on  love,  that  we  could  suppose  Paul 
preaching,  or  sitting  still  to  hear  preached. 
How  could  a  man  be  truly  converted,  Newman 
would  have  triumphantly  demanded,  at  any 
rate,  as  you  Lutherans  and  Calvinists  call  con- 
version, who  wrote  a  whole  eloquent  volume 
utterly  to  discredit  Luther,  and  Calvin,  and  the 
other  Reformers,  and  never  retracted  it  ?  "  If 
Luther  is  right,"  Newman  would  have  said  in 
his  own  dialectic  and  dilemma  way,  "  then  I 
never  stood  within  a  standing  Church  at  all. 
For  Luther  will  have  nothing  to  do,  as  he  con- 
tinually exclaims,  with  a  God  who  is  not,  first 
and  last,  to  be  found  in  Christ,  and  to  be  treat- 
ed with  only  in  Christ.     And  so  much  as  the 


Appreciation  103 

name  of  Christ,  as  all  my  readers  must  have 
seen,  is  not  once  to  be  found  in  all  the  im- 
pressive record  of  my  supposed  conversion ; 
much  less  His  imputed  and  sinner-justifying 
righteousness."  If  Newman  had  changed 
again,  and  had  lived  to  write  a  chapter  like 
that,  he  would  have  written  it  ten  times  stronger 
than  that,  and  in  a  hundred  times  more  unan- 
swerable English.  No ;  Newman  never  was 
converted  as  John  Wesley,  say,  was  converted. 
And  as  a  consequence,  among  all  Newman's 
St.  Mary's  sermons,  he  never  preached  a  single 
sermon  like  John  Wesley's  famous  St.  Mary's 
sermon  on  the  text,  "  By  grace  ye  are  saved 
through  faith."  A  sermon  preached  in  all  the 
fulness  and  freshness  of  Wesley's  at  last  full, 
and  still  fresh,  conversion.  All  men,  says 
Coleridge,  are  born  either  Platonists  or  Aristo- 
telians, and  what  they  are  once  born,  with  all 
their  changes,  they  remain  and  die.  And 
Newman,  in  the  matter  of  Pauline  truth,  was 
born  what  he  died.  Evangelical  birth  and  up- 
bringing, so-called  Calvinistic  conversion,  and 
all,  Newman's  very  heart  of  hearts  never,  to 
the  day  of  his  death,  got  her  complete  divorce, 
to  use  Paul's  great  word,  from  the  dominion  of 
the  law.  Newman's  Maker,  and  Lawgiver, 
and  Judge  was,  all  his   days,  far  more   self- 


I04  Newman's  Works 

luminous  to  Newman  than  his  only  Redeemer 
with  His  sin-cleansing  bloodj  and  with  His 
sinner-justifying  righteousness.  He  tells  us 
himself  that  He  who  is  our  only  peace  was 
always  severe  to  him,  even  on  the  crucifix. 
Newman  never,  to  the  day  of  his  death,  was 
dead  to  the  law  by  the  body  of  Christ,  as  Paul 
was,  and  as  Luther  was,  that  man  after  Paul's 
own  heart.  But,  then,  Luther  was  not  a 
"  Father,"  he  was  only  "  the  founder  of  a 
school."  And  how  could  Newman,  a  born 
Romanist,  surrender  himself  to  the  teaching  of 
the  deadliest  enemy  that  ever  rose  up  against 
Rome  since  Paul  rose  up  and  wrote  his  Epistles 
to  the  Romans  and  to  the  Galatians  ? 

Every  intelligent  Evangelical  will  be  forward 
to  admit  how  much  the  Evangelical  pulpit 
needed  in  Newman's  day,  and  still  needs,  all 
Newman's  genius,  all  his  scholarship,  all  the 
winningness  of  his  character,  and  all  his  rare 
and  splendid  talents,  in  order  to  commend  the 
Gospel  message  to  men  of  taste,  as  John  Foster 
has  said.  And  had  Newman  but  run  as  well  as 
he  began,  what  a  rank  he  would  have  attained 
to  in  the  Church  of  Christ !  Had  he  kept  true 
to  his  first  faith,  and  had  he  devoted  his  superb 
abilities  to  the  enriching  and  the  ennobling  of 
the  Evangelical  faith  and  life  and  literature  of 


Appreciation  105 

England,  what  a  long-shining  name  he  would 
have  left  behind  him ;  and  that  not  only  in  the 
world  of  letters,  but  above  all,  in  the  true 
Church  of  Christ — the  Church  of  Christ  Re- 
formed and  Evangelical !  At  this  point  take 
these  two  letters  written  in  1826,  while  as  yet 
he  was  preaching  Evangelical  sermons  and 
sending  them  now  and  then  to  his  Huguenot 
mother  to  read.  "  I  assure  you,"  his  happy 
mother  writes,  "  your  sermons  are  a  real  com- 
fort and  delight  to  me.  They  are  what  I  think 
sermons  ought  to  be — to  enlighten,  to  comfort, 
to  correct,  to  support,  to  strengthen.  It  is, 
my  dear,  a  great  gift  to  see  so  clearly  the 
truths  of  religion ;  still  more,  to  be  able  to 
impart  the  knowledge  to  others."  "These 
tender  and  happy  mother's  letters,"  says  his 
sister,  in  editing  his  Correspondence,  "are 
given  for  a  purpose  which  the  reader  will  un- 
derstand as  time  advances.  Even  now  their 
tone  is  too  confiding  to  be  allowed  to  pass 
without  some  touch  of  warning."  And  his 
sister  introduces  the  following  passage  from  one 
of  Newman's  letters  to  his  mother  as  a  touch 
of  warning :  "  I  am  pleased  you  like  my  ser- 
mons. I  am  sure  I  need  not  caution  you 
against  taking  anything  I  say  on  trust.  Do 
not  be  run  away  with  by  any  opinion  of  mine. 


io6  Newman's  Works 

I  have  seen  cause  to  change  my  mind  in  some 
respects,  and  I  may  change  again."  Not  a 
very  happy  letter  for  a  mother  to  read  from 
the  hand  of  a  minister-son.  But,  as  his  sister 
says,  it  was  intended  as  a  touch  of  warning  of 
what  might  come  to  his  mother  hereafter.  And 
which  came,  only  too  soon,  to  her  great  sorrow. 

"In  my  University  Sermons  there  is  a  series 
of  discussions  upon  the  subject  of  Faith  and 
Reason  ;  these,  again,  were  the  tentative  com- 
mencement of  a  great  and  necessary  work,  viz. 
an  inquiry  into  the  ultimate  basis  of  religious 
faith,  prior  to  the  distinction  into  creeds." 
Now,  it  is  not  the  ultimate  basis  of  faith,  but 
the  proximate  outcome  and  finishing  work  of 
faith,  that  I  specially  take  to  do  with  ;  and 
neither  in  his  University  Sermons^  nor  in  his 
Parochial  and  Plain  Sermons^  does  Newman 
give  me  any  help  at  all  in  that.  I  cannot 
follow  him  into  his  philosophical  discussions  as 
to  all  the  relations  of  faith  and  reason.  Dr. 
Martineau,  Dr.  Fairbairn,  Dr.  Abbott,  and 
others,  have  descended  into  that  deep  arena, 
and,  to  my  mind,  they  have  won  the  battle. 
Let  the  debate  be  read  by  all  who  are  inter- 
ested in  it,  and  are  able  to  read  it.  The  subject 
of  the   ultimate   basis  of  faith  is  beyond  my 


Appreciation  1 07 

powers.  That  is  not  my  region  at  all.  I  lose 
myself  down  there.  I  cannot  keep  my  feet 
down  there.  It  is  altogether  out  of  my  depth. 
But  as  much  as  these  champions  complain  to 
have  found  Newman  at  fault  in  those  deep 
places,  as  much  do  I  complain  against  him  up 
in  my  own  field.  Newman  is  always  assailing 
and  blaming  reason.  Now,  my  reason  is  all 
right.  My  reason  partakes  indeed  in  the  uni- 
versal debility  of  my  whole  inner  man  ;  but  the 
seat  of  my  evil  is  not  in  my  reason,  but  in  my 
heart.  If  my  heart  were  as  sound  in  its  offices 
and  operations  as  my  reason,  I  would  be  noth- 
ing short  of  a  saint.  But  I  have  an  evil  heart 
of  unbelief,  that  even  my  reason  continually 
condemns  and  abhors.  And  it  is  in  helping 
me  with  the  unbelief  of  my  heart  that  Newman 
so  fails  me.  With  the  unbelief  of  my  heart, 
that  is,  as  regards  its  highest  and  best  Object, 
Jesus  Christ,  as  my  righteousness  and  my 
strength.  "  The  relation  of  faith  to  reason,*' 
says  Dr.  Martineau,  "  is  traced  by  Newman 
with  a  fineness  and  general  truth  of  discrimina- 
tion that  remind  us  of  Butler.  Newman  does 
not  narrow  faith  to  the  Lutheran  dimensions, 
that  is  to  say,  to  denote  a  reliant  affection  tow- 
ard a  person  ;  to  imply  a  grace  peculiar  to  the 
Christian  and  Jewish  dispensations."     And  I 


io8  Newman's  Works 

find  Baur  in  his  great  book  on  Paul  employing 
the  very  same  word,  though  with  another  mo- 
tive. "  Thus,"  he  says,  "  the  object  of  faith  is 
narrowed  in  Paul  stage  by  stage  ;  and  in  pro- 
portion as  this  is  done,  the  faith  becomes  more 
intense  and  inward.  From  mere  theoretical 
assent  it  becomes  a  practical  trust  in  which  the 
man's  deepest  needs  find  expression  till  it  has 
for  its  object  the  Blood  of  Christ."  Now,  in 
these  passages  Dr.  Martineau  and  Dr.  Baur 
have  supplied  me  with  the  very  expression  that 
will  best  bring  to  a  point  the  great  fault  I  find 
with  Newman  ;  and  that  not  in  his  University 
and  Philosophical  Sermons  only,  but  quite  as 
much  in  his  Parochial  and  Plain  Sermons,  No  ; 
Newman  does  not  narrow  the  faith  he  preaches 
to  the  Pauline  and  Lutheran  dimensions. 
Would  God  he  did !  Would  God  he  did  nar- 
row ;  or,  rather,  did  exalt,  and  did  perfect,  and 
did  finish,  faith,  and  make  it  to  find  its  ever- 
lasting rest  and  its  reliant  and  afiiant  operation 
and  aflfection  in  Jesus  Christ !  In  that  Person 
for  whom,  from  its  ultimate  basis,  on  to  its 
most  exquisite  finish  and  most  perfect  fulness, 
faith  is  created  in  the  mind  and  in  the  heart  of 
every  true  believer.  The  true  and  perfect 
faith  of  the  Pauline  theology  and  anthropol- 
ogy, embraces,  to   begin    with,   both    Butler's 


Appreciation  109 

and  Newman^s  and  Martineau's  philosophical 
faith.  But  true  saving  faith  still  ascends 
in  Baur  and  in  Luther,  with  adoring  eyes  and 
uplifted  hands,  to  embrace  Jesus  Christ  as  He 
is  offered  to  such  faith  in  the  Gospel.  And 
this  faith,  or  rather  the  heart  in  which  such 
faith  is  seated,  casts  itself  upon  Jesus  Christ 
with  a  love,  and  an  assurance,  and  a  peace  that 
passes  all  understanding ;  of  which  love  and 
assurance  and  peace  Newman  has  next  to  noth- 
ing to  say  to  me  in  all  his  sermons.  Saving 
faith  is  such,  and  is  so  divine,  both  in  its  origin, 
in  its  operations,  and  in  its  results,  that  noth- 
ing, not  the  best  thing  in  heaven  or  in  earth, 
will  ever  be  permitted  to  take  its  place.  All 
the  works,  both  legal  and  evangelical,  that  Jew, 
or  Greek,  or  Papist,  or  Tractarian,  or  Puritan, 
ever  performed,  will  not  be  permitted  to  take 
the  place  of  faith  alone,  and  will  not  be  allowed 
to  invade  its  great  province,  no,  not  by  a 
hair*s-breadth.  Because  that  would  be  invad- 
ing Christ  alone.  Work,  fast,  pray,  afflict 
body  and  mind  and  heart,  and  all  else  that 
terror  and  love  ever  led  you  to  do,  all  is  but 
loss  compared  with  faith  ;  in  other  words,  com- 
pared with  Christ.  Faith  first,  faith  last,  faith 
always,  faith  only ;  in  other  words,  Christ. 
Luther  and  the  great  Puritans  have  taught  a 


1 1  o  Newman's  Works 

far  away  more  Scriptural  and  a  far  away  more 
Evangelical  doctrine  of  faith  and  of  Christ  than 
is  to  be  found  in  the  very  best  of  Newman's 
sermons.  And  it  is  a  faith,  as  I  have  said, 
whose  enemy  and  opposite  is  not  reason  at  all ; 
but  is  an  evil  heart,  full  of  doubt  and  fear  of 
God,  and  of  unbelief  against  God's  Son.  A 
faith,  indeed,  that  works  by  love  ;  but,  better 
than  that,  it  works  and  has  its  greatest  tri- 
umphs, when  love  is  dead ;  for  it  restores  our 
dead  love  to  newness  of  life.  A  faith  that  per- 
forms feats  in  the  soul,  and  for  the  salvation  of 
the  soul,  that  love,  at  its  best,  could  not  at- 
tempt. No ;  true  faith  is  never  the  enemy  of 
anything  that  is  worthy  to  be  called  reason. 
True  faith  is  the  enemy  of  a  corrupt,  a  proud, 
an  ungodly,  and  an  unchristian  heart,  and  the 
enemy  of  that  heart  alone. 

Newman's  two  volumes  of  Roman  Catholic 
sermons  are  in  many  ways  very  unlike  his 
Anglican  sermons.  Over  and  above  the  new 
note  of  certitude  and  finality  that  was  to  be 
expected  in  them  ;  over  and  above  the  complete 
disappearance  of  that  provisional,  precaution- 
ary, pioneering,  attitude  that  Newman  so  much 
took  up  in  his  St.  Mary's  sermons ;  there  are 
some  other  new  features  in  his  Catholic  sermons 


Appreciation  1 1 1 

that  both  surprise  the  student  of  Newman's 
mind,  and  demand  his  explanation  of  these 
remarkable  alterations  in  Newman's  mind  and 
work.  For  one  thing,  there  is  far  less  bitter- 
ness and  unfairness  to  his  opponents  when 
he  becomes  controversial.  His  temper  has 
improved.  He  is  more  genial,  if  not  more 
generous.  The  too  frequent  tone  of  irritation 
and  impatience;  the  far  too  frequent  slings 
of  scorn  and  contempt  have  all  but  van- 
ished. Also,  his  pulpit  wings  now  spread 
out  and  bear  the  preacher  aloft,  as  never 
before.  He  has  a  far  larger  horizon  before  the 
eye  of  his  imagination,  and  he  surveys  a  far 
larger  scope  behind,  and  before,  and  all  around. 
At  his  best  he  was  a  tethered  eagle  in  St.  Mary's 
pulpit;  he  is  now  the  untrammelled  sovereign  of 
the  whole  spiritual  sky.  To  use  his  own  words 
about  himself — formerly  he  was  like  a  traveller 
by  night,  calculating  and  guessing  his  way  over 
a  morass,  losing  all  his  confidence,  if  not  all  his 
hope.  But  the  Kindly  Light  that  he  so  pathetM 
cally  invoked  when  he  was  still  in  the  midst  of' 
the  morass,  has  now  risen  upon  the  wayfarer  and 
has  led  him  to  his  rest,  and  his  Catholic  sermons 
are  the  product  and  the  evidence  of  that  rest. 
If  there  was  a  restraint  of  thought  and  of  style 
in  Newman's   Oxford  sermons,  there  was    in 


112  Newman's  Works 

them  a  refinement  and  a  delicacy  also  that  has 
all  but  wholly  disappeared  from  the  Birmingham 
andDubhn  sermons.  And  in  the  removal  of  both 
the  restraint  and  the  refinement  and  the  delicacy, 
there  has  entered  in  the  room  of  these  qualities 
a  new  freedom  of  treatment,  a  new  movement 
as  of  a  great  drama,  a  new  breadth  and  depth 
of  colour  ;  an  abandonment,  so  to  speak,  to  the 
truth  in  hand ;  a  surrender  up  of  himself  to  the 
full  possession  of  the  passion  that  the  sight  of 
"  the  last  things  "  should  produce,  as  he  holds, 
in  every  preacher.  The  terrific  sermon  on  the 
"Neglect  of  Divine  Warnings,"  for  instance,  has 
a  sweep  of  imagination  and  a  licence  of  utter- 
ance in  it  that  makes  the  reader  shudder  to 
hold  it  before  his  eyes.  Jonathan  Edwards's 
tremendous  sermon  on  "  Sinners  in  the  Hand 
of  an  Angry  God  "  is  the  only  sermon  at  all 
like  Newman's  awful  sermon  in  the  English 
language,  or,  I  should  think,  in  any  other 
language  spoken  among  living  men.  "  The 
Mental  Sufl^erings  of  our  Lord  in  His  Passion," 
is  another  ever-memorable  sermon  of  New- 
man's Catholic  pulpit,  that  has  nothing  at  all 
like  it  among  his  English  Church  sermons, 
or  only  a  sentence  or  two  at  most.  "The 
Motive  of  the  Preacher,"  also  "  Paul's  Gift 
of    Sympathy,"    and   "  The   Religion    of  the 


Appreciation  1 1  3 

Pharisee,"  may  all  be  mentioned  as  sermons 
full  of  Newman's  later  and  more  magnificent 
manner ;  full  of  his  completely  emancipated,  if 
somewhat  overworked,  power.  And  there  is 
sometimes,  withal,  a  certain  momentary  return 
to  something  like  the  kind  of  sermon  that  so 
satisfied  his  mother  in  her  son's  pre-Tractarian 
days.     But  that  return  does  not  long  remain. 

Newman's  volume  on  Justification  is  to  me 
the  most  Newman-like  of  all  his  spoken  work. 
It  gathers  up  into  itself  all  his  power,  all  his 
beauty,  all  his  virtues,  and  all  his  vices.  What 
English  ! — I  exclaim  continually  as  I  read  it. 
What  iridescent,  dazzling,  elusive,  charming 
writing !  And,  at  the  same  time,  how  provok- 
ing, and  how  intended  to  provoke !  Full  of 
that  irony  which  he  admits  he  was  accustomed 
to  use  to  dull  men,  but  always  beautiful ;  always 
very  beauty  itself  And  absolutely  invaluable 
to  the  thorough-going  divinity  student ;  for  he 
will  find  the  greatest  and  best  of  all  his  pulpit 
subjects  here  set  before  him  in  every  possible 
light.  And  he  will  find  this  also,  that  if  there 
are  any  loose  links  in  his  Evangelical  doctrine 
of  justification  by  faith  alone,  he  will  find  those 
loose  links  detected  and  exposed  in  this  book 
with  the  most  merciless  satire,   and  with   the 


114  Newman's  Works 

most  matchless  literary  skill.  So  much  so,  that 
he  who  holds  to  this  supreme  apostolic  doctrine 
after  reading  Newman,  will  hold  it  as  he  never 
held  it  before.  He  will  both  understand,  and 
hold,  and  love,  and  preach,  that  doctrine  of 
doctrines  as  never  before.  And  what  more  can 
be  said  in  favour  of  any  book,  true,  half-true, 
or  wholly  false  ?  From  one  point  of  view 
Newman's  Justification  is  an  entirely  dialectical 
book ;  again,  it  is  an  entirely  mystical  book ; 
again,  a  most  spiritual  book ;  and  yet  again,  a 
most  sophistical  and  mischievous  book.  A  per- 
fect mirror  of  the  nature  and  the  working  of  its 
author's  many-sided,  arbitrary,  and  anomalous 
mind,  especially  when  he  is  engaged  in  contro- 
versy with  Evangelical  truth.  How  any  man 
of  Newman's  spirituality  of  mind,  knowledge 
of  his  own  heart,  and  exquisiteness  of  insight 
into  the  infinite  holiness  of  God's  law,  could,  in 
any  way,  or  at  any  time,  or  in  any  degree,  stake 
his  standing  before  the  judgment-seat  of  God, 
on  anything  he  could  suffer,  or  perform,  or 
attain  to,  in  this  world,  is  a  mystery  and  an 
amazement  to  me,  beyond  what  I  can  express. 
Indeed,  this  is  the  supreme  mystery  of  New- 
man's mysterious  mind  to  me.  Had  it  been 
almost  any  one  else,  I  would  have  said  that, 
simply,  the  holy  law  of  God  had  never  really 


Appreciation  1 1 5 

entered  that  man's  heart  who  could  write  of  sin 
and  the  pardon  of  sin  as  Newman  sometimes 
writes.  Again  and  again,  he  says  things  about 
sin,  at  the  reading  of  which  I  stand  absolutely 
astounded, — that  Newman,  of  all  men,  should 
say  such  things.  Till  I  fall  back  on  his  self- 
confessed  way  of  speaking  ironically,  and  in 
raillery,  even  on  the  most  solemn  subjects ; 
especially  when  he  has  Evangelical  preaching 
in  his  scornful  eye.  Also,  the  doctrinal  system 
to  which  he  had  surrendered  himself  has  no 
little  to  account  for  in  its  twist  and  perversion 
of  such  a  splendidly  spiritual  mind.  "  Know 
ye  not  that  to  whom  ye  yield  yourselves  ser- 
vants to  obey,  his  servants  ye  are  to  whom  ye 
obey." 

Hooker  is  the  greatest  name  in  the  English 
Church.  If  the  English  Church  has  a  master 
in  theology.  Hooker  is  that  universally  acknowl- 
edged master  of  the  best  English  theology  in 
the  best  English  prose.  And  this  is  his  master- 
piece passage  on  Justification.  And  a  passage 
in  which  he  is  absolutely  at  one  with  Paul  and 
Luther,  even  as  all  truly  Evangelical  preachers 
are  at  one  with  him  : — 

"  Christ    hath    merited    righteousness 

FOR   AS    MANY    AS    ARE    FOUND    IN    HiM.       AnD 


1 1 6  Newman's  Works 

IN  Him  God  findeth  us,  if  we  be  faithful  ; 
for  by  faith  we  are  incorporated  into 
Him.  Then,  although  we  be  in  our- 
selves ALTOGETHER  SINFUL  AND  UNRIGHTE- 
OUS, YET  EVEN  THE  MAN  WHO  IS  IN  HIMSELF 
IMPIOUS,  FULL  OF  INIQUITY,  FULL  OF  SIN  ; 
HIM   BEING  FOUND    IN  ChRIST  THROUGH    FAITH, 

and  having  his  sin  in  hatred  through 
repentance,  him  god  beholdeth  with  a 
gracious  eye  ;  putteth  away  his  sin  by 
not  imputing  it;  taketh  quite  away  the 
punishment  due  thereunto,  by  pardoning 
it;  and  accepteth  him  in  Christ  Jesus, 
as  perfectly  righteous  as  if  he  had 
fulfilled  all  that  is  commanded  him  in 
the  law  ;  shall  i  say  more  perfectly 
righteous  than  if  himself  had  fulfilled 
the  whole  law  ?     i  must  take  heed  what 

I    SAY,    BUT    THE    ApOSTLE  SAITH,    ^  GoD    MADE 

Him  to  be  sin  for  us,  who  knew  no  sin, 
that  we  might  be  made  the  righteousness 
OF  God  in  Him/  Such  we  are  in  the  sight 
OF  God  the  Father,  as  is  the  very  Son  of 
God  Himself.     Let  it  be  counted    folly, 

OR  PHRENSY,  OR  FURY,  OR  WHATSOEVER.  It 
IS  OUR  WISDOM,  AND  OUR  COMFORT  I  WE  CARE 
FOR  NO  KNOWLEDGE  IN  THE  WORLD  BUT  THIS, 
THAT     MAN     HATH     SINNED,     AND     GoD      HATH 


Appreciation  117 

suffered:  that    God  hath    made  Himself 

THE    SIN    of    men,    AND    THAT     MEN    ARE    MADE 
THE    RIGHTEOUSNESS    OF    GOD." 

Would  that  Newman  had  subscribed  and 
Stood  to  that,  and  had  preached  that  in  his  own 
best  English  ! 

Newman's  ostensibly  controversial  works 
are  a  very  treasure-house  of  good  things  to  the 
student  who  knows  how  to  search  for  them. 
The  intricate  man  will  never  be  fully  under- 
stood till  his  controversial  works  have  been 
consecutively  and  sympathetically  explored. 
There  is  no  other  writer  whose  controversial 
works  will  prove  so  repaying  to  the  student, 
unless  it  is  the  still  more  repaying  contro- 
versial works  of  William  Law.  And  Law 
and  Newman  are  alike  in  this,  and  are  alone ^ 
in  this,  that  whatever  be  the  immediate  matter 
in  dispute,  both  these  great  writers  give  their 
readers  such  rifts,  and  glimpses,  and  flashes, 
into  the  highest  truths,  and  bring  those  truths 
to  bear  with  such  impressiveness  on  the  matter 
in  hand.  And  they  both  display  such  a  trained 
and  polished  mind  in  their  polemics,  that  their 
controversial  writings  will  remain  English  litera- 
ture of  a  very  high  and  a  very  rare  order.  One 
great  interest  to    us    of   Newman's    polemical 


1 1 8  Newman's  Works 

writings  lies  in  the  continually  fluid  and  mobile 
state  of  his  own  mind ;  while,  all  the  time,  he 
is  taking  up  the  most  fixed  and  the  most  final 
attitude  of  mind  toward  the  men  and  the 
matters  in  debate.  This  also  makes  his  con- 
troversial works  a  study  of  himself  to  us  ;  how 
his  passions  largely  decide  and  fix  his  standing- 
ground  for  the  time ;  and,  then,  how  his  im- 
agination— and  such  an  imagination  ;  and,  then, 
his  argumentative  talents — and  such  argumen- 
tative talents — all  come  in  to  fortify,  and  to 
defend,  "and  to  make  warlike  and  aggressive, 
every  present  position  of  his.  Dante  boasts 
somewhere  that  language  has  never  led  him  to 
say  what  he  had  not  beforehand  determined  to 
say.  Now  I  question  if  Newman  would  have 
been  bold  enough,  at  his  boldest,  to  say  that. 
For,  first  his  likes  and  dislikes,  and  then  his 
imagination,  and  then  his  self-seductive  style — 
we  cannot  shut  our  eyes  as  we  see  all  these 
things,  completely  sweeping  Newman  himself 
away  into  utterances  and  attitudes  he  did  not 
intend,  and  almost  sweeping  us  away  with  him. 
With  all  that,  if  the  student  of  Newman  has 
sufiicient  patience,  and  temper,  and  taste  for 
letters,  and  a  sufficient  appreciation  of  the 
gleams  and  glimpses  of  the  loftiest  truths  that 
are  never  long  absent  from  anything  that  New- 


Appreciation  1 1 9 

man  writes,  he  will  find  his  master's  most  sec- 
tarian, and,  at  first  sight,  most  unattractive- 
looking,  treatises  full  of  illustrations  of  their 
author's  character  ;  full  of  the  overflowing  re- 
sources of  his  mind ;  and  full  of  things  the  en- 
riched student  will  never  forget;  however  oc- 
casional, and  perhaps  ephemeral,  and  even 
worse,  the  character  of  the  original  controversy 
in  hand  may  be  in  itself. 

It  would  be  well  worth  any  student  of  nat- 
ural science  to  compare  Newman  and  Darwin 
in  their  Development  books.  Newman's  cate- 
gories are,  to  my  mind,  even  more  suggestive 
and  philosophical  than  Darwin's  are,  or  those 
of  any  of  his  successors.  Newman's  extraordi- 
nary intellectual  strength,  originality,  amazing 
versatility,  and  inexhaustible  resource  of  mind, 
all  come  out  in  an  entrancing  way  in  this  won- 
derful, even  if  almost  entirely  baseless,  book. 
Reading  the  Development  always  makes  me 
wish  that  Newman  had  given  his  great  gifts  to 
showing  us  how  the  doctrines  of  grace,  as  we 
find  them  in  Paul's  Epistles,  were  elaborated 
in  the  Apostle's  mind.  Under  what  impulses, 
inspirations,  sanctions,  assistances,  assurances, 
the  Apostle's  mind  worked,  till  the  outcome 
of  it  all  is  what  it  is,  and  will  be  to  the  end  of 


I20  Newman's  Works 

Evangelical  time.  What  a  contribution,  what 
a  Tract  to  all  time,  that  would  have  been  ! 
Dr.  Sanday  has  said  that  only  Newman  could 
have  written  a  Life  of  Jesus  Christ  to  satisfy 
us  in  our  day.  And  I  will  add,  only  Newman 
could  have  treated  Paul,  and  his  development 
of  doctrine,  as  Paul  is  still  waiting  to  be  treated. 
Instead  of  that, — what  a  waste  of  labour  ! 
What  a  lost  opportunity  ! 

Everybody  has  read  Macaulay's  Essays,  and 
Carlyle's  Essays,  but  not  one  in  a  thousand 
knows  so  much  as  the  very  existence  of  New- 
man's Essays,  his  Historical  Sketches,  and  his 
Discussions  and  Arguments.  Even  to  advertise 
some  of  the  contents  of  Newman's  six  splendid 
volumes,  and  to  call  attention  to  some  of  the 
rare  intellectual  workmanship  contained  in 
those  six  volumes,  is  a  service  which  any  man 
like  myself  may  well  be  proud  to  perform. 
His  essay  on  "  Aristotle's  Poetics,"  his  essay 
on  "  John  Davison,"  his  essay  on  "  John  Ke- 
ble,"  his  'Times  articles  on  "  The  Tamworth 
Reading-Room,"  his  "  Who's  to  blame  for 
the  disasters  of  the  Crimean  War  ?  "  his  crit- 
icism of  Ecce  Homo,  his  succession  of  papers  on 
T/ie  Church  of  the  Fathers,  and  his  twenty 
chapters  on  Universities,  besides  his  many  ec- 


Appreciation  121 

clesiastical  articles, — all  make  up  a  body  of 
literature  of  the  very  finest  quality.  The  very 
dedications,  advertisements,  and  prefaces,  are 
well  worth  our  study  for  their  charming  court- 
esy and  for  their  beauty  of  style.  The  adver- 
tisement to  l!he  Church  of  the  Fathers  has  been 
well  described  as  "  a  very  gem,  both  of  thought 
and  expression."  The  paragraphs  on  transla- 
tion in  that  advertisement  are  simply  canon- 
ical to  the  classical  scholar.  The  whole  piece 
is  always  to  be  read  alongside  of  Matthew 
Arnold's  delightful  little  book  on  translating 
Homer.  Were  Newman's  Essay  on  Poetry, 
or  his  Milman,  or  his  Davison,  or  his  Ecct 
Homo,  or  his  La  Mennais,  or  his  Tamworth 
Letters,  to  appear  in  any  periodical  of  our  day, 
every  one  would  hail  the  entrance  of  a  new 
writer  in  the  intellectual  arena,  soon  to  prove 
himself  to  be  the  possessor  of  the  clearest  oif 
eyes,  the  supplest  of  arms,  and  the  noblest  of 
minds.  So  much  so,  that  a  young  political  or 
literary  aspirant  could  have  no  better  advice 
given  to  him  than  to  study  Newman's  Essays 
and  Discussions  night  and  day.  For,  let  any 
young  man  of  real  capacity  once  master  New- 
man's methods  of  exposition,  discussion,  and 
argumentation  ;  his  way  of  addressing  himself 
to  the  treatment  of  a  subject ;  his  way  of  en- 


122  Newman's  Works 

tering  upon  a  subject,  worming  his  way  to  the 
very  heart  of  it,  working  it  out,  and  winding 
it  up  ;  his  exuberance  of  allusion,  and  yet  every 
word  of  it  for  illustration,  and  never  one  word 
of  it  for  mere  embellishment ;  and,  withal,  the 
nobleness  of  his  heart  in  all  that  he  writes  :  any 
new  writer  studying  Newman's  intellectual 
workmanship  would  soon  make  his  presence 
and  his  power  felt  in  any  of  our  newspapers  or 
magazines.  And  let  any  theological  student 
read  Davison's  Remains,  and  his  beautiful  book 
on  Prophecy,  and  then  go  into  Newman's  re- 
view of  Davison,  and  a  lifelong  impression  of 
the  best  kind  cannot  fail  to  be  made  on  that 
student's  mind.  And  then  the  splendid  sketch 
of  University  life  in  ancient  Athens, — there  is 
nothing  so  brilliant  anywhere  else  to  be  read ; 
and  that,  again,  will  lead  the  reader  up  to  the 
universally-accepted  masterpiece  on  that  whole 
subject,  'The  Idea  of  a  University ;  the  first 
reading  of  which  is  always  an  epoch  in  every 
university  man's  life.  And  that  student  of 
letters  who  has  not  yet  read  the  lecture  on 
"  Literature,"  and  that  student  of  theology  who 
has  not  yet  read  the  lecture  on  "  Preaching," 
have  both  a  treat  before  them  that  I  would 
envy  them  for,  were  it  not  that  the  oftener  I 
read  those  two  lectures  I  always  enjoy  them 


Appreciation  123 

the  more.  For,  how  enlightening,  how  cap- 
tivating, are  those  two  or  three  pages  in  which 
Newman  takes  Sterne's  eulogium  on  the  style 
of  Holy  Scripture  for  a  text,  and  then  proceeds 
to  the  vindication  of  the  style  of  the  classical 
writers.  Read  attentively  the  lecture  on  "  Lit- 
erature,'* and  if  you  are  not  simply  captivated, 
you  need  read  no  more  in  Newman.  Read 
his  "  University  Preaching  "  ;  and  unless  your 
heart  burns  within  you,  you  may  depend  upon 
it  you  have  mistaken  your  call  to  the  Christian 
pulpit.  Those  University  papers,  especially, 
are  yet  another  illustration  of  that  liberating, 
broadening  out,  and  exuberating,  of  Newman's 
mind  which  reveals  itself  in  so  many  of  his 
Catholic  compositions.  If  the  Catholic  Uni- 
versity movement  had  left  no  other  result  than 
those  two  brilliant  volumes,  not  Ireland  and 
Rome  only,  but  all  the  other  Churches,  and 
English  literature  itself,  would  be  the  great  and 
lasting  gainers. 

As  Coleridge  would  say.  Let  every  theo- 
logical student  sell  his  bed  and  buy  Newman's 
Athanasius,  The  great  antagonist  of  the  Arians 
was  Newman's  favourite  Father,  even  more 
than  Augustine  himself.  Mr.  Arthur  Hutton 
tells  us  that  when  Leo  xiii.  made  sundry  pro- 
nouncements in  favour  of  an  almost  exclusive 


124  Newman's  Works 

use  of  the  writings  of  St.  Thomas,  and  the 
Cardinal  was  in  duty  bound  to  write  to  His 
Holiness  approving  and  praising  his  action,  he 
slipped  in  a  saving  clause,  claiming  that  St. 
Athanasius  was  doubtless  included  in  the  Papal 
recommendation.  Athanasius  is  always  "  the 
great  Athanasius "  to  Newman,  and  a  page 
could  easily  be  filled  with  this  and  many  other 
epithets  and  titles  of  honour  and  admiration 
that  his  translator  and  annotator  has  bestowed 
upon  his  patristic  master.  But  it  is  not  so 
much  Athanasius^  with  all  his  services,  that  I 
wish  all  students  to  possess,  as  Newman's  vol- 
ume of  Notes  on  the  Select  'Treatises.  The  way 
that  Newman  introduces  his  little  articles — lit- 
tle in  bulk,  but  bullion  itself  in  value — will 
make  every  true  student  hunger  to  have  them : 
"  I  had  hoped  that  this  would  be  my  least  im- 
perfect work,  but  I  have  done  my  best,  bearing 
in  mind  that  I  have  no  right  to  reckon  on  the 
future."  And  this  also  :  "  These  annotations 
are  written,  pro  re  natdy  capriciously,  or,  at 
least,  arbitrarily,  with  matter  which  the  writer 
happens  to  have  at  hand,  or  knows  where  to 
find,  and  are  composed  in  what  may  be  called 
an  undress,  conversational  style  ;  and  the  excuse 
for  these  defects  is  that  they  are  mere  append- 
ages to  the  text,  and   ancillary  to  it."      Do  not 


Appreciation  125 

believe  him.  Athanasius  wrote  in  order  to 
give  occasion  to  Newman  to  translate,  and  edit, 
and  annotate,  his  writings.  Buy  or  beg  New- 
man's Annotations  to  the  Select  'Treatises  of 
Athanasius. 

No  one  can  feel  the  full  force  of  Newman's 
great  sermons  on  "The  Incarnation,*'  and  on 
"  The  Atoning  Death  of  God  the  Son,"  who  has 
not  gone  with  Newman  behind  the  sermons  and 
up  to  the  sources  of  the  sermons  in  Athanasius, 
and  in  Basil,  and  in  Cyril.  The  greatest  and  the 
most  sure  to  be  lasting  of  Newman's  sermons 
are  just  his  rich  Athanasian  Christology  poured 
into  the  mould  of  his  incomparable  homiletic, 
and  delivered  with  all  that  overpowering  solem- 
nity to  which  all  who  ever  heard  those  sermons 
have  testified.  Such  sermons  would  not  have 
been  possible,  even  in  Newman's  pulpit,  had  it 
not  been  that  he  was  absolutely  taken  possession 
of  by  the  Apostolic  and  Athanasian  Christology. 
And  this  leads  me  to  make  an  acknowledg- 
ment to  you  that  1  have  often  made  to  myself 
in  reading  Newman's  more  theological  and 
Christological  sermons.  Newman  deserves  this 
acknowledgment  and  praise  above  all  other  ex- 
positors of  the  Fathers  and  the  great  Creeds 
that  have  ever  spoken  or  written  on  those  high 
subjects.      This  acknowledgment    and    praise. 


126  Newman's  Works 

that  what  he  so  truly  says  of  Hooker  is  in 
every  syllable  of  it  still  more  true  of  himself: 
"  About  Hooker  there  is  the  charm  of  nature 
and  reality.  He  discourses  not  as  a  theologian, 
but  as  a  man ;  and  we  see  in  him  what  other- 
wise might  have  been  hidden — poetry  and  phi- 
losophy informing  his  ecclesiastical  matter." 
Now,  read  Pearson,  say,  a  master  as  he  is,  on 
any  article  of  the  Apostle's  Creed,  especially 
any  article  of  his  on  the  Divine  Persons,  and 
then  read  a  sermon  of  Newman's  on  the  same 
subject,  and  you  will  get  a  lesson  in  thinking 
and  in  writing  and  in  preaching  in  English  that 
you  will  never  forget.  Newman  delivers  all  his 
readers  ever  after  from  a  cold,  dry,  notional, 
technical,  catechetical  mind,  he  so  makes  every 
article  of  the  Creed  a  very  fountain  of  life  and 
power  and  beauty.  He  so  lifts  up  his  own 
superb  imagination  to  its  noblest  use,  that  he 
makes,  first  himself,  and  then  makes  us  to  see, 
the  Divine  Persons,  and  their  Divine  relations 
and  operations,  as  never  before.  Till  all  our 
Creeds  and  Confessions  and  Catechisms  become 
clothed  with  a  majesty,  and  instinct  with  a 
beauty,  and  welling  over  with  personal  applica- 
tions and  comforts,  new,  and  unexpected,  and 
ever-abiding.  His  two  grand  sermons  in  his 
sixth  volume — "  Christ  the  Son  of  God  made 


Appreciation  127 

Man  '*  and  "  The  Incarnate  Son  a  Sufferer  and 
a  Sacrifice,"  may  be  pointed  out  as  two  spleif^""! 
did    illustrations    of  Newman's    incomparable  / 
power  of  making  the  highest  doctrines  imagina-  T 
tively  to  abide  with  us,  and  to  abide  full  of  the    \ 
most  homiletical  and  most  home-coming  expo--^ 
sitions  and  applications. 

As  to  Newman's  two  novels, — it  goes  with- 
out saying  that  both  Loss  and  Gain  and  Cal- 
lista  contain  brilliant  and  memorable  passages. 
Callista^  especially,  contains  not  a  few  pages 
that  are  entirely  classical.  The  description  of 
the  scene  where  the  work  is  laid ;  the  oft- 
quoted  locust-passages ;  and  the  conversation 
on  Tartarus  held  between  Caecilius  and  Cal- 
lista, — a  passage  that  William  Law  himself 
might  have  written;  and,  I  am  not  sure  that 
even  Newman  would  ever  have  written  those 
masterly  pages,  unless  William  Law  had  written 
on  the  same  subject  before  him.  As  to  the 
trustworthiness  of  Callista, — when  the  critics 
charge  its  author  with  violating  historical  truth, 
and  with  the  importation  of  Popish  develop- 
ments of  doctrine  and  life  into  a  third  century 
sketch,  Newman  frankly  admits  the  charge. 
Indeed,  he  cannot  deny  it.  This  is  how  he 
defends  himself  from  a  similar  charge  in  his  . 


1 28  Newman's  Works 

advertisement  to  'The  Church  of  the  Fathers : 
"It  is  plain  that  as  to  the  matter  of  these 
Sketches,  though  mainly  historical,  they  are  in 
their  form  and  character  polemical,  as  being 
directed  against  certain  Protestant  ideas  and 
opinions.  This  consideration  must  plead  for 
certain  peculiarities  which  it  exhibits,  such  as 
its  freedom  in  dealing  with  saintly  persons,  the 
gratuitous  character  of  some  of  its  assertions, 
and  the  liberality  of  many  of  its  concessions. 
It  must  be  recollected  that,  in  controversy,  a 
writer  grants  all  that  he  can  afford  to  grant, 
and  avails  himself  of  all  that  he  can  get  granted  ; 
in  other  words,  if  he  seems  to  admit,  it  is 
mainly  for  argument's  sake  ;  and  if  he  seems  to 
assert,  it  is  mainly  as  an  argumentum  ad  hominem. 
As  to  positive  statements  of  his  own,  he  com- 
mits himself  to  as  few  as  he  can  ;  just  as  a  soldier 
on  campaign  takes  no  more  baggage  than  is 
enough,  and  considers  the  conveniences  of  home 
life  as  only  impediments  in  his  march."  As 
long  as  Hippocleides  can  write  in  that  way, 
what  chance  has  Charles  Kingsley,  or  even  the 
truth  itself,  with  Hippocleides !  Altogether, 
Loss  and  Gain  and  Callista  are  not  at  all  worthy 
of  their  author's  genius  and  character.  He 
should  have  been  advised  against  reprinting 
them.     They  might  pass  at  the  time  of  their 


Appreciation  129 

composition  for  veiled  polemical  pamphlets, 
but  they  can  do  no  real  and  abiding  good. 
They  certainly  do  not  add  to  Newman's  repu- 
tation, either  for  literary  ability,  or  for  histori- 
cal integrity,  or  for  controversial  fairness.  I 
never  took  to  his  two  novels,  and  1  do  not 
recommend  you  to  read  them,  unless  for  the 
light  they  throw  on  their  author.  But,  then, 
that  light  is  not  little.  For,  as  Dr.  Abbott 
says,  Loss  and  Gain  and  Callista  are  "  the  most 
subjective  of  novels." 

What  Coleridge  has  said  about  Jeremy 
Taylor's  composition  of  his  Apology  is  exact- 
ly, and  exquisitely,  and  prophetically,  true  of 
Newman  in  the  composition  of  his  book  of  the 
same  name.  "  Taylor  so  again  and  again  for- 
gets that  he  is  reasoning  against  an  antagonist, 
that  he  falls  into  conversation  with  him  as  a 
friend — I  might  almost  say  into  the  literary 
chitchat  and  unwithholding  frankness  of  a  rich 
genius  whose  sands  are  seed-pearl."  The  Apolo- 
gia pro  vitd  sua  could  not  possibly  be  better 
described.  It  is  just  a  literary  chitchat  whose 
sands  are  seed-pearl.  For  it  is  a  chitchat  rather 
than  a  studied  composition.  That  is,  it  has 
been  studied  and  studied,  and  written  and  re- 
written, to  such  a  finish  that  it  reads  to  us  like 


130  Newman's  Works 

chitchat,  so  perfect,  so  exquisite,  is  its  art.  And, 
like  Taylor*s  very  richest  writing,  Newman's 
Apologia  has  all  the  charm  of  a  rich  genius 
conversing  confidingly  with  his  most  intimate 
friends.  I  am  not  to  attempt  the  praise  of 
the  Apologia  as  English  literature.  I  could  fill 
a  volume  as  large  as  itself  with  its  praises 
by  the  acknowledged  judges  of  good  books. 
They  are  all  agreed  as  to  the  Apologia  being  the 
brilliant  crown  of  a  brilliant  series  of  literary 
masterpieces.  And,  besides  all  that,  as  a  piece 
of  polemic ;  as  the  apology  it  was  intended  to 
be ;  it  is  as  conclusive  and  unanswerable  as  it  is 
incomparable  as  a  piece  of  English  literature. 
The  Apologia  carried  the  whole  world  captive  in 
a  day.  Never  was  there  such  a  sudden  and  such 
a  complete  reversal  of  men's  judgments.  It  may 
well  stand  on  the  title-page  of  the  Apologia : 
"  Commit  thy  way  to  the  Lord,  and  trust  in 
Him,  and  He  will  do  it.  And  He  will  bring 
forth  thy  justice  as  the  light,  and  thy  judgment 
as  the  noonday."  At  the  same  time,  like  so 
much  of  its  author's  work,  it  bears  the  stamp 
of  an  occasion  on  its  face,  and  no  work  of  that 
kind  will  ever  become  immortal.  The  immortal 
Ecclesiastical  Polity  itself  is  preserved  to  all 
time,  in  virtue  of  those  books  which  are  im- 
bedded in  it,  and  which  do  not  properly  belong 


Appreciation  131 

to  it.  Those  books,  and  chapters  of  books, 
which  rise  above  time,  and  all  its  polemic,  and 
belong  to  eternity.  Even  as  an  autobiography 
the  Apologia  does  not  stand  in  the  first  rank. 
^be  Confessions  does,  the  Grace  Abounding  does, 
'The  Reliquia  even,  in  many  of  its  chapters,  does. 
Ay,  even  such  homely  books  as  Halyburton, 
and  Brea,  and  Boston,  stand  in  the  first  rank  to 
us,  because,  even  where  their  style  may  not  be 
the  most  classical,  and  even  when  those  writers 
are  the  most  homely,  their  subject-matter  is  of 
such  transcendent  and  everlasting  importance. 
Newman's  splendid  vindication  of  his  ecclesias- 
tical honesty  is  of  a  high  importance  and  a  rare 
relish  to  all  his  readers  ;  but  there  is  a  region 
far  higher  than  even  that,  and  a  region  into 
which  his  Apologia  never  once  enters.  It  glances, 
in  passing,  into  that  region  of  regions,  but  only 
in  passing.  And,  never  really  entering  into 
that  inner  and  upper  region,  it  has  none  of  the 
interest,  and  none  of  the  perennial  importance 
and  power,  that  many  autobiographies  have 
which  cannot  for  a  moment  compete  with  the 
Apologia  in  literary  charm.  He  would  be  a 
bold  man  who  would  venture  to  correct  New- 
man's English,  even  in  a  jot  or  a  tittle,  else  I 
would  propose  to  read  "  ecclesiastical "  where 
he  has  written   "religious"  on    his  title-page. 


I  3  2  Newman's  Works 

For  the  Apologia  is  really  a  history  o^  his  ec- 
clesiastical opinions,  and  not  at  all  of  his  re- 
ligious opinions ;  or  it  is  a  history  of  his  re- 
ligious opinions  only  so  far  as  they  bear  upon 
his  ecclesiastical  opinions,  and  upon  his  ever- 
shifting  ecclesiastical  positions.  There  are,  to 
be  sure,  single  entrancing  sentences  of  experi- 
mental religion  in  the  Apologia^  but  the  bulk  of 
the  book  is  in  the  region  of  ecclesiastical  opinion, 
and  not  always  the  highest  region  of  that.  "  The 
Apologia^'  says  Froude,  "  is  the  most  beautiful 
of  autobiographies,  but  it  tells  us  only  how  its 
writer  appeared  to  himself."  And,  I  will  add, 
only  how  its  writer  appeared  to  himself  from 
time  to  time  as  a  Churchman,  which  is  a  very 
different  thing  from  a  man,  a  sinful  man,  and 
a  Christian  man.  I  read,  and  read,  and  read 
again,  the  Apologia^  but  it  always  leaves  me 
where  first  it  found  me  so  many  years  ago. 
Nobody  enjoys  the  Apologia  more  than  I 
enjoy  it,  but  I  get  nothing  beyond  intellectual, 
and  artistic,  and  emotional,  enjoyment  out  of 
it.  I  am  not  a  stronger  or  a  better  man  after 
again  reading  the  Apologia,  It  never  sends  me 
back  to  the  stern  battle  of  my  life  with  my  har- 
ness better  fastened  on,  or  to  my  pulpit  with 
any  new  sense  of  spiritual  power.  It  affords 
me  amusement  of  the  rarest  and  finest  kind  ;  it 


Appreciation  133 

gives  me  a  high  intellectual  and  artistic  treat ; 
but  it  does  not  dwell  and  work  within  my  heart 
as  some  other  autobiographical  books  dwell 
and  work,  that  I  am  ashamed  to  name  in  such 
classical  company.  But  I  must  always  remem- 
ber what,  exactly,  the  Apologia  is,  and  what  it 
is  not.  It  is  not  a  religious  book  at  all,  but  an 
ecclesiastical.  It  is  not  a  spiritual  book  at  all,  but 
a  dialectical.  It  is  not  a  book  of  the  very  soul, 
but  of  what  is  to  be  said  as  between  this  Church 
and  that.  Its  author  does  not  say,  like  John 
Bunyan,  "  Come  and  hear,  all  ye  that  fear  God, 
and  I  will  declare  what  He  hath  done  for  my 
soul  "  ;  and,  therefore,  I  must  not  expect  what 
he  does  not  promise.  And  thus  it  is  that  I 
never  lay  down  the  Apologia  without  finding 
myself  exclaiming, — Oh,  that  all  that  so  cap- 
tivating talent  had  been  laid  out  on  how  New- 
man, like  Paul,  won  Christ  so  as  to  be  found 
in  Him,  instead  of  how  he  won  his  way  to 
Rome  so  as  to  be  found  in  her.  For,  then,  he 
would  have  produced  a  book  that  would  have 
stood  beside  the  two  or  three  best  books  of 
that  kind  in  all  the  world.  Then  Newman*s 
Apologia  would  have  stood  beside  Bunyan's 
Grace  Abounding.  And,  then,  I  would  have 
sung  "  Lead,  Kindly  Light,"  with  a  liberty, 
and  with  a  sense  of  communion  with  its  author. 


134  Newman's  Works 

that,  by  his  Apologia^  he  has  completely  taken 
away  from  me. 

In  the  Grammar  of  Assent,  as  Mr.  Augustine 
Birrell  says,  Newman  strikes  the  shield  of  John 
Locke,  and  it  is  not  for  me  to  venture  in  be- 
tween such  combatants.  But  I  may  be  per- 
mitted to  say  this,  that  the  Grammar  of  Assent 
has  been  a  prime  favourite  of  mine  ever  since 
the  year  1870,  when  it  was  first  published. 
There  is  more  of  the  jargon  of  the  schools  in 
^he  Grammar  than  in  all  Newman's  other  books 
taken  together.  But,  then,  to  make  up  for 
that,  there  are  many  passages  of  a  high  and 
noble  eloquence  that  he  has  never  surpassed. 
This  very  able  book,  when  stripped  of  its  tech- 
nicalities, is  simply  an  amplification,  in  New- 
man's perfect  English,  of  the  truth  that  it  is 
with  the  heart,  and  not  with  the  head,  that  a 
man  believes  unto  salvation.  And  an  amplifica- 
tion of  this  kindred  truth  also,  that  if  any  man 
will  do  the  will  of  God,  he  shall  know  the 
doctrine.  And  that  in  these  ways  his  peace 
shall  be  as  a  river.  Only,  to  have  made  this 
fine  book  fine  to  the  end,  it  should  have  ended, 
not  with  an  assent  to  Rome,  but  to  this  rather, 
that  neither  in  this  mountain,  nor  yet  at  Jeru- 
salem, shall  we  worship  the  Father ;  but  they 


Appreciation  135 

that  worship  Him  must  worship  Him  in  spirit 
and  in  truth.  With  all  its  defects,  ne  Gram- 
mar  is  a  great  possession  to  the  proper  pos- 
sessor. 

^he  'Dream  of  Gerontius  was  the  true  cope- 
stone  for  Newman  to  cut  and  to  lay  on  the 
literary  and  religious  work  of  his  whole  life. 
Had  Dante  himself  composed  'The  Bream  of 
Gerontius  as  his  elegy  on  the  death  of  some  be- 
loved friend,  it  would  have  been  universally 
received  as  altogether  worthy  of  his  superb 
genius,  and  it  would  have  been  a  jewel  alto- 
gether worthy  of  his  peerless  crown.  There  is 
nothing  of  its  kind  outside  of  the  Purgatorio 
and  the  Paradiso  at  all  equal  to  the  Gerontius 
for  solemnising,  ennobling,  and  sanctifying 
power.  It  is  a  poem  that  every  man  should 
have  by  heart  who  has  it  before  him  to  die. 

All  students  of  the  English  language  give 
their  days  and  nights  to  the  Authorised  Version 
of  the  Bible,  to  Shakespeare,  to  Hooker,  to 
Taylor,  to  Milton,  to  Bunyan,  to  Johnson,  to 
Swift,  to  Ruskin.  But  if  they  overlook  New- 
man, they  will  make  a  great  mistake,  and  will 
miss  both  thinking  and  writing  of  the  very  first 
order.    The  strength,  the  richness,  the  pliability, 


136  Newman's  Works 

the  acuteness,  the  subtlety,  the  spiritualness, 
the  beauty,  the  manifold  resources  of  the  Eng- 
lish language,  are  all  brought  out  under  New- 
man's hand,  as  under  the  hand  of  no  other 
English  author.  "  Athanasius  is  a  great  writer," 
says  Newman,  "  simple  in  his  diction,  clear, 
unstudied,  direct,  vigorous,  elastic,  and,  above 
all,  characteristic."  All  of  which  I  will  repeat 
of  Newman  himself,  and  especially  this — he  is 
above  all  characteristic.  If  the  English  language 
has  an  angel  residing  in  it  and  presiding  over  it, 
surely  Newman  is  that  angel.  Or,  at  the  least, 
the  angel  who  has  the  guardianship  of  the 
English  language  committed  to  him,  must 
surely  have  handed  his  own  pen  to  Newman 
as  often  as  that  master  has  sat  down  to  write 
English.  No  other  writer  in  the  English 
language  has  ever  written  it  quite  like  Newman. 
Every  preface  of  his,  every  title-page  of  his, 
every  dedication  and  advertisement  of  his,  every 
footnote,  every  parenthesis  of  his,  has  a  stamp 
upon  it  that  at  once  makes  you  say — that  is 
Newman  !  He  is  simply  inimitable.  He  is 
simply  alone  as  a  writer,  and  has  no  fellow. 
No  wonder  he  says  that  the  only  master  of 
style  he  ever  had  was  Cicero.  And  Cicero  had 
a  good  scholar  in  Newman,  if  the  scholar  is 
correct  in  his  description  of  his  master.     "  This 


Appreciation  1 37 

is  the  great  art  of  Cicero  himself,  who,  whether 
he  is  engaged  in  statement,  argument,  or  raillery, 
never  ceases  till  he  has  exhausted  the  subject ; 
going  round  about  it  and  placing  it  in  every 
different  light,  yet  without  repetition  to  offend 
or  weary  the  reader."  Altogether,  Newman's 
is  a  shelf  of  some  thirty-eight  volumes,  all^ 
opulent  with  ideas,  all  instinct  with  spirituahty, 
all  resplendent  with  beauty,  and  all  enriching 
and  fertilising  to  the  mind  of  their  proper 
reader ;  with  all  their  drawbacks,  a  noble  inheri- 
tance to  their  true  heir.  And  now,  in  bringing 
this  very  imperfect  appreciation  of  Newman  to 
a  close,  I  think  I  can  say  with  a  good  conscience, 
that  I  have  done  my  best  to  speak  to  you  about 
this  great  man  and  rich  writer  on  PauFs  great 
principle  of  believing  all  things,  hoping  all 
things,  enduring  all  things,  and  always  rejoicing 
in  the  truth.  And  on  Shakespeare's  great 
principle  ;  for  I  have  not  knowingly  extenuated 
anything,  and  it  was  simply  impossible  for  me 
to  set  down  aught  in  malice.  And  on  Bengel's 
great  principle,  not  to  judge  without  knowledge, 
nor  without  necessity,  nor  without  love :  Sine 
scientia,  sine  necessitate^  sine  amove. 


NEWMAN'S   CHOICEST   PASSAGES 


NEWMAN'S    CHOICEST    PASSAGES 

ON    GOD 

There  is  one  God,  such  and  such  in  Nature 
and  Attributes.  I  say  "  such  and  such,"  for, 
unless  I  explain  what  I  mean  by  "  one  God," 
I  use  words  which  may  mean  anything  or 
nothing.  I  may  mean  a  mere  anima  mundi ; 
or  an  initial  principle  which  once  was  in  action 
and  now  is  not ;  or  collective  humanity.  I 
speak  then  of  the  God  of  the  Theist  and  the 
Christian  ;  a  God  who  is  numerically  One,  who 
is  Personal ;  the  Author,  Sustainer,  and  Finisher 
of  all  things,  the  Life  of  Law  and  Order,  the 
Moral  Governor ;  One  who  is  Supreme  and 
Sole ;  like  Himself,  unHke  all  things  beside 
Himself,  which  all  are  but  His  creatures  ;  dis- 
tinct from,  independent  of  them  all ;  One  who 
is  self-existing,  absolutely  infinite,  who  has 
ever  been  and  will  be,  to  whom  nothing  is 
past  or  future ;  who  is  all  perfection,  and  the 
fulness  and  archetype  of  every  possible  ex- 
cellence, the  Truth  Itself,  Wisdom,  Love, 
141 


142     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

Justice,  Holiness ;  One  who  is  All-powerful, 
All-knowing,  Omnipresent,  Incomprehensible. 
These  are  some  of  the  distinctive  prerogatives 
which  I  ascribe,  unconditionally  and  unre- 
servedly, to  the  Great  Being  whom  I  call  God. 
— Grammar  of  Assent ^  chap.  v. 


ON    GOD    THE    SON 

And  here  we   are   brought   to   the   second 

point  of  doctrine  which  it  is  necessary  to  insist 

upon,  that  while  our  Lord  is  God  He  is  also 

the  Son  of  God,  or  rather,   that  He  is  God 

because  He  is  the  Son  of  God.     We  are  apt, 

at  first  hearing,  to  say  that  He  is  God  though 

He   is    the  Son    of  God,   marvelling   at   the 

mystery.     But  what  to  man  is  a  mystery,  to 

God  is  a  cause.     He  is  God,  not  though^  but 

C because  He  is  the  Son  of  God.     "  That  which 

'Sis  born  of  the  flesh  is  flesh,  that  which  is  born 

/of  the  Spirit  is  spirit,"  and  that  which  is  be- 

V^^otten  of  God  is  God.     I  do  not  say  that  we 

could   presume   thus  to  reason  for  ourselves, 

r  but   Scripture   draws   the   conclusion   for    us. 

Christ  tells  us  Himself,  "  As  the  Father  hath 

'life  in  Himself,  so  hath  He  given  to  the  Son 

(  to  have  life  in  Himself**     And  St.  Paul  says, 

that  He  is  "  the  brightness  of  God's  glory,  and 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     143 

the  express  Image  of  His  Person."  And  thus, 
though  we  could  not  presume  to  reason  of 
ourselves  that  He  that  is  begotten  of  God  is 
God,  as  if  it  became  us  to  reason  at  all  about 
such  ineffable  things,  yet,  by  the  light  of 
Scripture,  we  may.  And  after  all,  if  the  truth 
must  be  said,  it  is  surely  not  so  marvellous 
and  mysterious  that  the  Son  of  God  should  be 
God,  as  that  there  should  be  a  Son  of  God  at 
all.  It  is  as  little  level  to  natural  reason  that 
God  should  have  a  Son,  as  that,  if  there  be 
a  Son,  He  must  be  God  because  He  is  the 
Son.  Both  are  mysteries  ;  and  if  we  admit 
with  Scripture  that  there  be  an  Only-begotten 
Son,  it  is  even  less  to  admit,  what  Scripture 
also  teaches,  that  that  Only-begotten  Son  is 
God  because  He  is  Only-begotten.  And  this 
is  what  makes  the  doctrine  of  our  Lord's 
Eternal  Sonship  of  such  supreme  importance, 
viz.  that  He  is  God  because  He  is  begotten 
of  God  ;  and  they  who  give  up  the  latter  truth 
are  in  the  way  to  give  up,  or  will  be  found 
already  to  have  given  up,  the  former.  The 
great  safeguard  to  the  doctrine  of  our  Lord's 
Divinity  is  the  doctrine  of  His  Sonship  ;  we 
realise  that  He  is  God  only  when  we  acknowl- 
edge Him  to  be  by  nature  and  from  eternity 
Son. 


144     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

Nay,  our  Lord's  Sonship  is  not  only  the 
guarantee  to  us  of  His  Godhead,  but  also  the 
antecedent  of  His  Incarnation.  As  the  Son 
was  God,  so,  on  the  other  hand,  was  the  Son 
suitably  made  man ;  it  belonged  to  Him  to 
have  the  Father^s  perfections,  it  became  Him 
to  assume  a  servant's  form.  We  must  beware 
of  supposing  that  the  Persons  of  the  Ever- 
blessed  and  All-holy  Trinity  differ  from  each 
other  only  in  this,  that  the  Father  is  not  the 
Son,  and  the  Son  is  not  the  Father.  They 
differ  in  this  besides,  that  the  Father  is  the 
Father,  and  the  Son  is  the  Son.  While  they 
are  one  in  substance,  each  has  distinct  charac- 
teristics which  the  other  has  not.  Surery^;^liiQSS 
sacred  names  have  a  meaning  in  Tliem,  and 
rnusl"not  lightly  be  passed  over.  And  they 
will  be  found,  if  we  reverently  study  them,  to 
supply  a  very  merciful  use  towards  our  under- 
standing Scripture ;  for  we  shall  see  a  fitness, 
J. say,  now  that  that  sacred  truth  is  revealed, 
^hl^the  Son  of  God  taking  flesh,  and  w^  shall 
thereby  understand  better  what  He  says  of 
Himself  in  the  Gospels.  The  Son  of  God 
became  the  Son  a  second  time,  though  not 
a  second  Son,  by  becoming  man.  He  was  a 
Son  both  before  His  Incarnation  and,  by  a 
second  mystery,  after  it.     From   eternity  He 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      145 

had  been  the  Only-begotten  in  the  bosom  of 
the  Father ;.  and  when  He  came  on  earth,  this 
essential  relation  to  the  Father  remained  un- 
altered ;  still.  He  was  a  Son,  when  in  the  form 
of  a  servant, — still  performing  the  will  of  the 
Father,  as  His  Father's  Word  and  Wisdom, 
manifesting  His  glory  and  accomplishing  His 
purposes. 

I  shall  mention  a  fourth  and  last  point  in 
this  great  mystery.  I  have  said  that  our  High 
Priest  and  Saviour,  the  Son  of  God,  when  He 
took  our  nature  upon  Him,  acted  through  it, 
without  ceasing  to  be  what  He  was  before, 
making  it  but  the  instrument  of  His  gracious 
purposes.  But  it  must  not  be  supposed,  be- 
cause it  was  an  instrument,  or  because  in  the 
text  it  is  called  a  tabernacle,  that  therefore  it 
was  not  intimately  one  with  Him,  or  that  it 
was  merely  like  what  is  commonly  meant  by 
a  tabernacle  which  a  man  dwells  in,  and  may 
come  in  and  out  of;  or  like  an  instrument, 
which  a  man  takes  up  and  lays  down.  Far 
from  it;  though  His  Divine  Nature  was 
sovereign  and  supreme  when  He  became  in- 
carnate, yet  the  Manhood  which  He  assumed 
was  not  kept  at  a  distance  from  Him  (if  I 
may  so  speak)  as  a  mere  instrument,  or  put 
on  as  a  mere  garment,  or  entered  as  a  mere 


146     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

tabernacle,  but  it  was  really  taken  into  the 
closest  and  most  ineffable  union  with  Him. 
He  received  it  into  His  Divine  Essence  (if  we 
may  dare  so  to  speak)  almost  as  a  new  attri- 
bute of  His  Person  ;  of  course,  I  speak  by  way 
of  analogy,  but  I  mean  as  simply  and  indissolu- 
bly.  Let  us  consider  what  is  meant  by  God's 
justice,  or  mercy,  or  wisdom,  and  we  shall  per- 
haps have  some  glimpse  of  the  meaning  of  the 
inspired  writers,  when  they  speak  of  the  Son's 
Incarnation.  If  we  said  that  the  Son  of  God 
is  just  or  merciful,  we  should  mean  that  these 
are  attributes  which  attach  to  all  He  is  or  was. 
Whatever  He  says,  whatever  He  designs,  what- 
ever He  works,  He  is  just  and  loving,  when  He 
thus  says,  designs,  or  works.  There  never  was 
a  moment,  there  never  was  an  act  or  provi- 
dence, in  which  God  wrought,  without  His 
being  just  and  loving,  even  though  both  at- 
tributes may  not  be  exercised  at  once  in  the 
same  act.  In  somewhat  the  same  way  the 
Son  of  God  is  man ;  all  that  is  necessary  to 
constitute  a  perfect  manhood  is  attached  to 
His  eternal  Person  absolutely  and  entirely, 
belonging  to  Him  as  really  and  fully  as  His 
justice,  truth,  or  power ;  so  that  it  would  be 
as  unmeaning  to  speak  of  dividing  one  of 
His  attributes  from  Him  as  to  separate  from 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      147 

Him    His    manhood. — Parochial    and    Plain 
Sermons^  vol.  vi.  sermon  vr"^  '     ~"         " 


ON    THE    WORD 

He  is  a  Being  who,  though  the  Highest,  yet 
in  the  work  of  creation,  conservation,  govern- 
ment, retribution,  makes  Himself,  as  it  were, 
the  minister  and  servant  of  all ;  who,  though 
inhabiting  eternity,  allows  Himself  to  take  an 
interest,  and  to  have  a  sympathy,  in  the  matters 
of  time  and  space.  His  are  all  beings,  visi- 
ble and  invisible,  the  noblest  and  the  vilest  of 
them.  His  are  the  substance,  and  the  opera- 
tion, and  the  results  of  that  system  of  physical 
nature  into  which  we  are  born.  His,  too,  are 
the  achievements  of  the  intellectual  essences  on 
which  He  has  bestowed  an  independent  action 
and  the  gift  of  origination.  The  laws  of  the 
universe,  the  principles  of  truth,  the  relation  of 
one  thing  to  another,  their  qualities  and  virt- 
ues, the  order  and  harmony  of  the  whole,  all 
that  exists,  is  from  Him  ;  and  if  evil  is  not 
from  Him,  as  assuredly  it  is  not,  this  is  because 
evil  has  no  substance  of  its  own,  but  is  only 
defect,  excess,  perversion,  or  corruption  of  that 
which  has  substance.  All  we  see,  hear,  and 
touch,  the  remote  sidereal  firmament,  as  well  as 


148      Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

our  own  sea  and  land,  and  the  elements  which 
compose  them,  and  the  ordinances  they  obey, 
are  His.  The  primary  atoms  of  matter,  their 
properties,  their  mutual  action,  their  disposition 
and  collocation,  electricity,  magnetism,  gravita- 
tion, light,  and  whatever  other  subtle  principles 
or  operations  the  wit  of  man  is  detecting  or 
shall  detect,  are  the  work  of  His  hands.  From 
Him  has  been  every  movement  which  has  con- 
vulsed and  refashioned  the  surface  of  the  earth. 
The  most  insignificant  or  unsightly  insect  is 
from  Him,  and  good  in  its  kind ;  the  ever- 
teeming,  inexhaustible  swarms  of  animalculae, 
the  myriads  of  living  motes  invisible  to  the 
naked  eye,  the  restless,  ever-spreading  vegeta- 
tion which  creeps  like  a  garment  over  the  whole 
earth,  the  lofty  cedar,  the  umbrageous  banana, 
are  His.  His  are  the  tribes  and  families  of 
birds  and  beasts,  their  graceful  forms,  their  wild 
gestures,  and  their  passionate  cries. 

And  so  is  the  intellectual,  moral,  social,  and 
political  world.  Man,  with  his  motives  and 
works,  his  languages,  his  propagation,  his  dif- 
fusion, is  from  Him.  Agriculture,  medicine, 
and  the  arts  of  life,  are  His  gifts.  Society, 
laws,  government.  He  is  their  sanction.  The 
pageant  of  earthly  royalty  has  the  semblance 
and  the  benediction  of  the  Eternal  King.     Peace 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      149 

and  civilisation,  commerce  and  adventure,  wars 
when  just,  conquests  when  humane  and  neces- 
sary, have  His  co-operation  and  His  blessing 
upon  them.  The  course  of  events,  the  revolu- 
tion of  empires,  the  rise  and  fall  of  states,  the 
periods  and  eras,  the  progress  and  the  retro- 
gression of  the  world's  history,  not  indeed  the 
incidental  sin,  ever-abundant  as  it  is,  but  the 
great  outlines  and  the  results  of  human  affairs, 
are  from  His  disposition.  The  elements  and 
types  and  seminal  principles  and  constructive 
powers  of  the  moral  world,  in  ruins  though  it 
be,  are  to  be  referred  to  Him.  "  He  enlight- 
eneth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world." 
His  are  the  dictates  of  the  moral  sense,  and  the 
retributive  reproaches  of  conscience.  To  Him 
must  be  ascribed  the  rich  endowments  of  the 
intellect,  the  irradiation  of  genius,  the  imagina- 
tion of  the  poet,  the  sagacity  of  the  politician, 
the  wisdom  (as  Scripture  calls  it)  which  now 
decorates  the  Temple,  now  manifests  itself  in 
proverb  or  in  parable.  The  old  saws  of  na- 
tions, the  majestic  precepts  of  philosophy,  the 
luminous  maxims  of  law,  the  oracles  of  indi- 
vidual wisdom,  the  traditionary  rules  of  truth, 
justice,  and  religion,  even  thoughts  imbedded 
in  the  corruption,  or  alloyed  with  the  pride,  of 
the  world,  betoken  His   original   agency  and 


150     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

His  longsuffering  presence.  Even  when  there 
is  habitual  rebellion  against  Him,  or  profound 
far-spreadingj  social  depravity,  still  the  under- 
current, or  the  heroic  outburst,  of  natural  virt- 
ue, as  well  as  the  yearnings  of  the  heart  after 
what  is  not,  and  the  presentiment  of  its  true 
remedies,  are  to  be  ascribed  to  the  Author  of 
all  good.  Anticipations  or  reminiscences  of 
His  glory  haunt  the  mind  of  the  self-sufficient 
sage  and  of  the  pagan  devotee ;  His  writing 
is  upon  the  wall,  whether  of  the  Indian  fane, 
or  of  the  porticoes  of  Greece.  He  introduces 
Himself,  He  all  but  concurs,  according  to  His 
good  pleasure,  and  in  His  selected  season,  in 
the  issues  of  unbelief,  superstition,  and  false 
worship,  and  He  changes  the  character  of  acts 
by  His  overruling  operation.  He  conde- 
scends, though  he  gives  no  sanction,  to  the 
altars  and  shrines  of  imposture,  and  He  makes 
His  own  fiat  the  substitute  for  its  sorceries. 
He  speaks  amid  the  incantations  of  Balaam, 
raises  SamueFs  spirit  in  the  witch's  cavern, 
prophesies  of  the  Messias  by  the  tongue  of  the 
Sibyl,  forces  Python  to  recognise  His  minis- 
ters, and  baptizes  by  the  hand  of  the  misbe- 
liever. He  is  with  the  heathen  dramatist  in 
his  denunciations  of  injustice  and  tyranny  and 
his   auguries  of  divine  vengeance  upon  crime. 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      151 

Even  on  the  unseemly  legends  of  a  popular 
mythology  He  casts  His  shadow,  and  is  dimly 
discerned  in  the  ode  or  the  epic,  as  in  troubled 
water  or  in  fantastic  dreams.  All  that  is  good, 
all  that  is  true,  all  that  is  beautiful,  all  that  is 
beneficent,  be  it  great  or  small,  be  it  perfect  or 
fragmentary,  natural  as  well  as  supernatural, 
moral  as  well  as  material,  comes  from  Him. — 
Idea  of  a  University ^  Discourse  iii. 


ON    THE    INFINITE 

What,  in  fact,  do  we  know  of  pure  spirit  ? 
What  do  we  know  of  the  infinite  ?  Of  the 
latter  just  a  little,  by  means  of  mathematical 
science,  that  is,  under  the  conditions  of  number, 
quantity,  space,  distance,  direction,  and  shape ; 
just  enough  to  tell  us  how  little  we  know,  and 
how  little  we  are  able  to  draw  arguments  and 
inferences  when  infinites  are  in  question. 
Mathematical  science  tells  us  that  one  and  one 
infinite  do  not,  put  together,  make  two ;  that 
there  may  be  innumerable  infinites,  and  that 
all  put  together  are  not  greater  than  one  of 
them ;  that  there  are  orders  of  infinites.  It  is 
plain  we  are  utterly  unable  to  determine  what 
is  possible  and  what  is  impossible  in  this  high 
region  of  realities.     And   then,   again,  in   the 


152     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

case  of  infinitesimals,  do  not  three  lines  become 
one  line  when  one  is  placed  upon  another  ? 
Yet  how  can  we  say,  supposing  them  respec- 
tively coloured  white,  red,  and  blue,  that  they 
would  not  remain  three,  after  they  had 
coalesced  into  one,  as  they  were  really  three 
before  ? 

Nor  in  its  doctrine  of  infinites  only  does 
mathematical  science  illustrate  the  mysteries  of 
theology.  Geometry,  for  instance,  may  be  used 
to  a  certain  point  as  an  exponent  of  algebraical 
truth ;  but  it  would  be  irrational  to  deny  the 
wider  revelations  of  algebra,  because  they  do 
not  admit  of  a  geometrical  expression.  The 
fourth  power  of  a  quantity  may  be  received  as  a 
fact,  though  a  fourth  dimension  in  space  is  in- 
conceivable. Again,  a  polygon  or  an  ellipse  is 
a  figure  different  in  kind  from  a  circle ;  yet  we 
may  tend  towards  a  conception  of  the  latter  by 
using  what  we  know  of  either  of  the  former. 
Thus  it  is  by  economical  expedients  that  we 
teach  and  transmit  the  mysteries  of  religion, 
separating  them  into  parts,  viewing  them  in 
aspects,  adumbrating  them  by  analogies,  and  so 
approximating  to  them  by  means  of  words 
which  say  too  much  or  too  little.  And  if  we 
consent  to  such  ways  of  thought  in  our  scien- 
tific treatment  of  "  earthly  things,"  is  it  wonder- 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      153 

fill  that  we  should  be  forced  to  them  in  our 
investigation  of  "  heavenly  "  ? — Athanasius^  11. 
Art.  'The  Holy  Trinity  in  Unity, 


ON    THE    DOCTRINE    OF    THE    ECONOMY 

The  word  Economy  occurs  in  St.  PauFs 
Epistle  to  the  Ephesians,  where  it  is  used  for 
that  series  of  divine  appointments  viewed  as  a 
whole,  by  which  the  Gospel  is  introduced  and 
realised  among  mankind,  being  translated  in 
our  version  dispensation.  It  will  evidently  bear 
a  wider  sense,  embracing  the  Jewish  and  patri- 
archal dispensations,  or  any  divine  procedure, 
greater  or  less,  which  consists  of  means  and 
an  end.  Thus  it  is  applied  by  the  Fathers  to 
the  history  of  Christ's  humiliation,  as  exhibit- 
ed in  the  doctrines  of  His  incarnation,  minis- 
try, atonement,  exaltation,  and  mediatorial  sov- 
ereignty, and  as  such  distinguished  from  the 
Theologia  or  the  collection  of  truths  relative  to 
His  personal  indwelling  in  the  bosom  of  God. 
Again,  it  might  with  equal  fitness  be  used  for 
the  general  system  of  providence  by  which  the 
world's  course  is  carried  on ;  or,  again,  for  the 
work  of  creation  itself,  as  opposed  to  the  abso- 
lute perfection  of  the  Eternal  God,  that  internal 
concentration  of  His  Attributes  in  self-contem- 


154     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

plation,  which  took  place  on  the  seventh  day, 
when  He  rested  from  all  the  work  which  He 
had  made.  And  since  this  everlasting  and  un- 
changeable quiescence  is  the  simplest  and  truest 
notion  we  can  obtain  of  the  Deity,  it  seems  to 
follow  that,  strictly  speaking,  all  those  so-called 
economies  or  dispensations,  which  display  His 
character  in  action,  are  but  condescensions  to 
the  infirmity  and  peculiarity  of  our  minds, 
shadowy  representations  of  realities,  which  are 
incomprehensible  to  creatures  such  as  ourselves, 
who  estimate  everything  by  the  rule  of  associa- 
tion and  arrangement,  by  the  notion  of  a  pur- 
pose and  plan,  object  and  means,  parts  and 
whole.  What,  for  instance,  is  the  revelation  of 
general  moral  laws,  their  infringement,  their 
tedious  victory,  the  endurance  of  the  wicked, 
and  the  "  winking  at  the  times  of  ignorance," 
but  an  Economia  of  greater  truths  untold,  the 
best  practical  communication  of  them  which 
our  minds  in  their  present  state  will  admit? 
Accordingly,  we  may  safely  admit  the  first 
chapter  of  the  Book  of  Job,  the  twenty-second 
of  the  First  Book  of  Kings,  and  other  passages 
of  Scripture  to  be  Economies,  that  is,  represen- 
tations conveying  substantial  truth  in  the  form 
in  which  we  are  best  able  to  receive  it ;  and  to 
be  accepted  by  us  and  used  in  their  literal  sense. 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      155 

as  our  highest  wisdom,  because  we  have  no 
powers  of  mind  equal  to  the  more  philosophical 
determination  of  them.  Again,  the  Mosaic 
Dispensation  was  an  Economy,  simulating  (so 
to  say)  unchangeableness  when  from  the  first  it 
was  destined  to  be  abolished.  And  our  Blessed 
Lord's  conduct  on  earth  abounds  with  the  like 
gracious  and  considerate  condescension  to  the 
weakness  of  His  creatures,  who  would  have 
been  driven  either  to  a  terrified  inaction  or  to 
presumption,  had  they  known  then,  as  after- 
wards, the  secret  of  His  Divine  Nature. — '^he 
Ariansy  i.  iii. 

By  "  Economical  "  I  mean  language  relating 
to  matters  beyond  the  direct  apprehension  of 
those  to  whom  it  is  addressed  ;  and  which,  in 
order  to  have  a  chance  of  conveying  to  them 
any  idea,  however  faint,  of  the  fact,  must  be 
more  or  less  of  an  analogous  or  figurative  char- 
acter, as  viewed  relatively  to  the  truths  which 
it  professes  to  report,  instead  of  a  direct  and 
literal  statement  of  the  things  which  have  to  be 
conveyed.  Thus  a  child's  idea  of  a  king  is 
that  of  a  man  richly  dressed  with  a  crown  and 
sceptre,  sitting  on  a  throne ;  thus  an  attempt 
might  be  made  to  convey  to  a  blind  man  the 
character  of  scarlet  contrasted  with  other  col- 
ours by  telling  him  that  it  is  like  the  sound 


156      Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

of  a  trumpet ;  thus,  since  none  of  us  can  imag- 
ine to  ourselves  a  spirit  and  its  properties,  it 
is  a  received  economy  to  speak  of  our  Lord 
as  sitting  on  the  right  hand  of  God,  as  if  right 
and  left  were  possible  in  Him  ;  and,  indeed, 
Scripture  is  necessarily  full  of  economies  when 
speaking  of  heavenly  things,  because  there  is 
no  other  way  of  introducing  into  our  minds 
even  a  rude  idea,  even  any  idea  at  all,  of  mat- 
ters so  utterly  out  of  our  experience. — Athana- 

siuSy  II. 

ON    THE    WORD    PERSON 

The  word  Person  requires  the  rejection  of 
various  popular  senses,  and  a  careful  definition, 
before  it  can  serve  for  philosophical  uses.  We 
sometimes  use  it  for  an  individual  as  contrasted 
with  a  class  or  multitude,  as  when  we  speak  of 
having  "  personal  objections  to  another " ; 
sometimes  for  the  body^  in  contrast  to  the  soul, 
as  when  we  speak  of  "  beauty  of  person."  We 
sometimes  use  it  in  the  abstract,  as  when  we 
speak  of  another  as  "  insignificant  in  person  " ; 
sometimes  in  the  concrete,  as  when  we  call  him 
"  an  insignificant  person."  How  divergent  in 
meaning  are  the  derivatives,  personable^  person- 
alities, personify,  personation,  personage,  parson- 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      157 

age  !  This  variety  arises  partly  from  our  own 
carelessness,  partly  from  the  necessary  develop- 
ments of  language,  partly  from  the  exuber- 
ance of  human  thought,  partly  from  the  de- 
fects of  our  vernacular  tongue. 

Language  then  requires  to  be  refashioned 
even  for  sciences  which  are  based  on  the  senses 
and  the  reason  ;  but  much  more  will  this  be 
the  case,  when  we  are  concerned  with  subject- 
matters,  of  which,  in  our  present  state,  we  can- 
not possibly  form  any  complete  or  consistent 
conception,  such  as  the  Catholic  doctrines  of 
the  Trinity  and  Incarnation.  Since  they  are 
from  the  nature  of  the  case  above  our  intel- 
lectual reach,  and  were  unknown  till  the  preach- 
ing of  Christianity,  they  required  on  their  first 
promulgation  new  words,  or  words  used  in  new 
senses,  for  their  due  enunciation.  And,  since 
these  were  not  definitely  supplied  by  Scripture 
or  by  tradition,  nor  for  centuries  by  ecclesiasti- 
cal authority,  variety  in  the  use,  and  confusion 
in  the  apprehension  of  them,  were  unavoidable 
in  the  interval.  This  conclusion  is  necessary, 
admitting  the  premisses,  antecedently  to  par- 
ticular instances  in  proof. 

Moreover,  there  is  a  presumption  equally 
strong,  that  the  variety  and  confusion  which  I 
have  anticipated,  would  in  matter  of  fact  issue 


158     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

here  or  there  in  actual  heterodoxy,  as  often  as 
the  language  of  theologians  was  misunderstood 
by  hearers  or  readers,  and  deductions  were 
made  from  it  which  the  teacher  did  not  intend. 
Thus,  for  instance,  the  word  Person^  used  in 
the  doctrine  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  would  on 
first  hearing  suggest  Tritheism  to  one  who 
made  the  word  synonymous  with  individual; 
and  Unitarianism  to  another,  who  accepted 
it  in  the  classical  sense  of  a  mask  or  character. 

Even  to  this  day  our  theological  language  is 
wanting  in  accuracy  ;  thus,  we  sometimes  speak 
of  the  controversies  concerning  the  Person  of 
Christ,  when  we  mean  to  include  in  them  those 
also  which  belong  to  the  two  natures  which  are 
predicated  of  Him. — T^he  Arians,  Fourth  Edi- 
tion, Appendix,  Note  iv. 

ON    THE    INSPIRATION    OF    THE    BIBLE 

In  what  way  inspiration  is  compatible  with 
that  personal  agency  on  the  part  of  its  instru- 
ments, which  the  composition  of  the  Bible 
evidences,  we  know  not ;  but  if  anything  is  cer- 
tain, it  is  this — that  though  the  Bible  is  in- 
spired, and  therefore,  in  one  sense,  written  by 
God,  yet  very  large  portions  of  it,  if  not  far 
the  greater  part  of  it,  are  written  in  a  free  and 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      159 

unconstrained  manner,  and  (apparently)  with  as 
little  consciousness  of  a  supernatural  dictation 
or  restraint,  on  the  part  of  His  earthly  instru- 
ments, as  if  He  had  no  share  in  the  work. 
As  God  rules  the  will,  yet  the  will  is  free — as 
He  rules  the  course  of  the  world,  yet  men 
conduct  it — so  He  has  inspired  the  Bible,  yet 
men  have  written  it.  Whatever  else  is  true 
about  it,  this  is  true — that  we  may  speak  of 
the  history  or  mode  of  its  composition,  as  truly 
as  of  that  of  other  books  ;  we  may  speak  of  its 
writers  having  an  object  in  view,  being  influ- 
enced by  circumstances,  being  anxious,  taking 
pains,  purposely  omitting  or  introducing  things, 
leaving  things  incomplete,  or  supplying  what 
others  had  so  left.  Though  the  Bible  be  in- 
spired, it  has  all  such  characteristics  of  dialect 
and  style,  the  distinct  effects  of  times  and 
places,  youth  and  age,  of  moral  and  intellect- 
ual character ;  and  I  insist  on  this,  lest  in 
what  I  am  going  to  say  I  seem  to  forget  (what 
I  do  not  forget),  that  in  spite  of  its  human 
form,  it  has  in  it  the  spirit  and  the  mind  of 
God. 

I  observe,  then,  that  Scripture  is  not  one 
book ;  it  is  a  great  number  of  writings,  of 
various  persons,  living  at  different  times,  put 
together  into    one,  and  assuming    its  existing 


i6o     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

form  as  if  casually  and  by  accident.  It  is  as 
if  you  were  to  seize  the  papers  or  correspond- 
ence of  leading  men  in  any  school  of  philoso- 
phy or  science,  which  were  never  designed 
for  publication,  and  bring  them  out  in  one 
volume.  You  would  find  probably  in  the 
collection  so  resulting  many  papers  begun  and 
not  finished ;  some  parts  systematic  and  didactic, 
but  the  greater  part  made  up  of  hints  or  of 
notices,  which  assumed  first  principles  instead 
of  asserting  them,  or  of  discussions  upon  par- 
ticular points  which  appeared  to  require  their 
attention.  I  say  that  the  doctrines,  the  first 
principles,  the  rules,  the  objects  of  the  school, 
would  be  taken  for  granted,  alluded  to,  implied, 
not  stated.  You  would  have  some  trouble  to 
get  at  them ;  you  would  have  many  repeti- 
tions, many  hiatuses,  many  things  which  looked 
like  contradictions  ;  you  would  have  to  work 
your  way  through  heterogeneous  materials,  and 
after  your  best  efforts,  there  would  be  much 
hopelessly  obscure  ;  or,  on  the  other  hand,  you 
might  look  in  vain  in  such  a  casual  collection 
for  some  particular  opinion  which  the  writer 
was  known  nevertheless  to  have  held,  nay,  to 
have  insisted  on. 

Such,  I    conceive,    is    the    structure   of  the 
Bible. — 'Tract  Ixxxv.  p.  30. 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      i6i 


ON    CONSCIENCE 

What  is  the  main  guide  of  the  soul,  given 
to  the  whole  race  of  Adam,  outside  the  true 
fold  of  Christ  as  well  as  within  it,  given  from 
the  first  dawn  of  reason,  given  to  it  in  spite  of 
that  grievous  penalty  of  ignorance  which  is 
one  of  the  chief  miseries  of  our  fallen  state  ? 
It  is  the  light  of  conscience,  "the  true  Light," 
as  the  same  Evangelist  says  in  the  same  pas- 
sage, "  which  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh 
into  the  world."  Whether  a  man  be  born 
in  pagan  darkness,  or  in  some  corruption  of 
revealed  religion  ;  whether  he  has  heard  the 
Name  of  the  Saviour  of  the  world  or  not; 
whether  he  be  the  slave  of  some  superstition, 
oris  in  possession  of  some  portions  of  Scripture, 
in  any  case,  he  has  within  his  breast  a  certain 
commanding  dictate,  not  a  mere  sentiment,  not 
a  mere  opinion,  or  impression,  or  view  of  things, 
but  a  law,  an  authoritative  voice,  bidding  him  do 
certain  things  and  avoid  others.  It  is  more 
than  a  man's  self  The  man  himself  has  not 
power  over  it,  or  only  with  extreme  difficulty  ; 
he  did  not  make  it,  he  cannot  destroy  it.  He 
may  silence  it  in  particular  cases  or  directions  ; 
he  may  distort  its  enunciations  ;  but  he  cannot 
— or   it  is  quite  the  exception  if  he  can — he 


1 62     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

cannot  emancipate  himself  from  it.  He  can 
disobey  it,  he  may  refuse  to  use  it;  but  it 
remains. 

This  is  conscience  ;  and,  from  the  nature 
of  the  case,  its  very  existence  carries  on  our 
minds  to  a  Being  exterior  to  ourselves  ;  else, 
whence  its  strange,  troublesome  peremptori- 
ness  ?  I  say  its  very  existence  throws  us  out 
of  ourselves,  and  beyond  ourselves,  to  go  and 
seek  for  Him  in  the  height  and  depth,  whose 
voice  it  is.  As  the  sunshine  implies  that  the 
sun  is  in  the  heavens,  though  we  may  see  it 
not ;  as  a  knocking  at  our  doors  at  night  implies 
the  presence  of  one  outside  in  the  dark  who 
asks  for  admittance,  so  this  Word  within  us 
necessarily  raises  our  minds  to  the  idea  of  a 
Teacher,  an  unseen  Teacher.  And  thus  it  is, 
that  to  those  who  use  what  they  have,  more  is 
given.  At  the  same  time,  the  more  a  person 
tries  to  obey  his  conscience,  the  more  he  gets 
alarmed  at  himself  for  obeying  it  so  im- 
perfectly. His  sense  of  duty  will  become 
more  keen,  and  his  perception  of  transgression 
more  delicate  ;  and  he  will  understand  more  and 
more  how  many  things  he  has  to  be  forgiven. 
And  the  voice  of  conscience  has  nothing  gentle, 
nothing  of  mercy  in  its  tone.  It  is  severe, 
and    even    stern.     It  does   not   speak  of  for- 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      163 

giveness,  but  of  punishment.  It  suggests  to 
the  sinner  a  future  judgment ;  it  does  not  tell 
him  how  he  can  avoid  it.  Moreover,  it  does 
not  tell  him  how  he  is  to  get  better ;  he  feels 
himself  very  sinful  at  the  best;  he  feels  himself 
in  bondage  to  a  tyranny  which,  alas  !  he  loves 
too  well,  even  while  he  hates  it.  And  then 
he  is  in  great  anguish,  and  cries  out  in  the 
Apostle's  words,  "  Unhappy  man  that  I  am, 
who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this 
death  ?  " — Sermons,  Various,  v. 

Conscience  suggests  to  us  many  things  about 
that  Master,  whom  by  means  of  it  we  conceive, 
but  its  most  prominent  teaching,  and  its  cardi- 
nal and  distinguishing  truth  is  that  He  is  our 
Judge.  In  consequence,  the  special  Attribute 
under  which  it  brings  Him  before  us,  to  which 
it  subordinates  all  other  Attributes,  is  that  of 
justice,  retributive  justice.  We  learn  from  its 
information  to  conceive  of  the  Almighty,  pri- 
marily, not  as  a  God  of  wisdom,  of  knowledge, 
of  power,  of  benevolence,  but  as  a  God  of  jus- 
tice and  of  judgment ;  as  one  who  ordains  that 
the  offender  shall  suffer  for  his  offence.  Hence 
its  effect  is  to  burden  and  sadden  the  religious 
mind,  and  is  in  contrast  with  the  enjoyment 
derivable  from  the  exercise  of  the  affections, 
and  from  the  perception  of  beauty,  whether  in 


164     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

the  material  universe,  or  in  the  creations  of 
the  intellect.  This  is  that  fearful  antagonism 
brought  out,  with  such  soul-piercing  reality,  by 
Lucretius,  when  he  speaks  so  dishonourably  of 
what  he  considers  the  heavy  yoke  of  religion, 
and  the  aternas  fcenas  in  morte  timendum^  and, 
on  the  other  hand,  rejoices  in  his  Alma  VenuSy 
qua  rerum  naturam  sola  gubernas.  And  we  may 
appeal  to  him  for  the  fact,  while  we  repudiate 
his  view  of  the  fact. — Grammar ,  chap.  x. 

The  rule  and  measure  of  duty  is  not  utility, 
nor  expedience,  nor  the  happiness  of  the  great- 
est number,  nor  State  convenience,  nor  fitness, 
order,  and  the  pulcbrum.  Conscience  is  not  a 
long-sighted  selfishness,  nor  a  desire  to  be  con- 
sistent with  oneself;  but  it  is  a  messenger  from 
Him,  who,  both  in  nature  and  in  grace,  speaks 
to  us  behind  a  veil,  and  teaches  and  rules  us 
by  His  representatives.  Conscience  is  the  abo- 
riginal vicar  of  Christ,  a  prophet  in  its  in- 
formations, a  monarch  in  its  peremptoriness,  a 
priest  in  its  blessings  and  anathemas  ;  and  even 
though  the  eternal  priesthood  throughout  the 
Church  could  cease  to  be,  in  it  the  sacerdotal 
principle  would  remain,  and  would  have  a 
sway. — Letter  to  the  Duke  of  Norfolk, 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      165 


ON    FEAR    AND    LOVE 


In  heaven,  love  will  absorb  fear  ;  but  in  this 
world, /^^r  and  love  must  go  together.  No  one 
can  love  God  aright  without  fearing  Him ; 
though  many  fear  Him,  and  yet  do  not  love 
Him.  Self-confident  men,  who  do  not  know 
their  own  hearts,  or  the  reasons  they  have  for 
being  dissatisfied  with  themselves,  do  not  fear 
God,  and  they  think  this  bold  freedom  is  to 
love  Him.  Deliberate  sinners  fear  but  cannot 
love  Him.  But  devotion  to  Him  consists  in 
love  and  fear,  as  we  may  understand  from  our 
ordinary  attachment  to  each  other.  No  one 
really  loves  another  who  does  not  feel  a  certain 
reverence  towards  him.  When  friends  trans- 
gress this  sobriety  of  affection,  they  may  indeed 
continue  associates  for  a  time,  but  they  have 
broken  the  bond  of  union.  It  is  a  mutual  re- 
spect which  makes  friendship  lasting.  So  again, 
in  the  feelings  of  inferiors  towards  superiors. 
Fear  must  go  before  love.  Till  he  who  has 
authority  shows  he  has  it  and  can  use  it,  his 
forbearance  will  not  be  valued  duly  ;  his  kind- 
ness will  look  like  weakness.  We  learn  to 
contemn  what  we  do  not  fear  ;  and  we  cannot 
love  what  we  contemn.  So  in  religion  also. 
We  cannot  understand   Christ's  mercies  till  we 


1 66      Newman*s  Choicest  Passages 

understand  His  power,  His  glory.  His  un- 
speakable holiness,  and  our  demerits ;  that  is, 
until  we  first  fear  Him.  Not  that  fear  comes 
first,  and  then  love ;  for  the  most  part  they  will 
proceed  together.  Fear  is  allayed  by  the  love 
of  Him,  and  our  love  is  sobered  by  our  fear  of 
Him. — Sermons,  vol.  i.  pp.  303,  304. 


ON    MAN 

O  Lord,  how  wonderful  in  depth  and  height. 
But  most  in  man,  how  wonderful  Thou  art ! 

With  what  a  love,  what  soft  persuasive  might 
Victorious  o*er  the  stubborn  fleshly  heart, 

Thy  tale  complete  of  saints  Thou  dost  provide, 

To  fill  the  throne  which  angels  lost  through 
pride  ! 

He  lay  a  grovelling  babe  upon  the  ground. 
Polluted  in  the  blood  of  his  first  sire. 

With  his  whole  essence  shattered  and  unsound. 
And  coil'd  around  his  heart  a  demon  dire. 

Which  was  not  of  his  nature,  but  had  skill 

To  bind  and  form  his  opening  mind  to  ill. 

Then  was  I  sent  from  heaven  to  set  right 
The  balance  in  his  soul  of  truth  and  sin. 

And  1  have  waged  a  long  relentless  fight. 
Resolved  that  death-environ*d  spirit  to  win. 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      167 

Which  from  its  fallen  state,  when  all  was  lost. 
Had  been  repurchased  at  so  dread  a  cost. 

Oh,  what  a  shifting  parti-colour'd  scene 
Of  hope  and  fear,  of  triumph  and  dismay. 

Of  recklessness  and  penitence,  has  been 
The  history  of  that  dreary,  life-long  fray  ! 

And  oh,  the  grace  to  nerve  him  and  to  lead. 

How  patient,  prompt,  and  lavish  at  his  need  ! 

O  man,  strange  composite  of  heaven  and  earth. 
Majesty  dwarf 'd  to  baseness,  fragrant  flower 
Running  to  poisonous  seed  !  and  seeming  worth 
Cloaking    corruption !    weakness    mastering 
power  ! 
Who  never  art  so  near  to  crime  and  shame 
As    when    thou    hast    achieved  some  deed  of 
name. — 

How  should  ethereal  natures  comprehend 

A  thing  made  up  of  spirit  and  of  clay. 
Were  we  not  tasked  to  nurse  it  and  to  tend, 
Link'd  one  to  one    throughout   its    mortal 
day? 
More  than  the  Seraph  in  his  height  of  place. 
The    Angel-guardian    knows    and    loves     the 
ransom'd  race. 

Dream  of  Gerontius, 


1 68      Newman's  Choicest  Passages 


ON    THE    WORLD    OF    MEN 

Starting  then  with  the  being  of  a  God 
(which,  as  I  have  said,  is  as  certain  to  me  as 
the  certainty  of  my  own  existence,  though 
when  I  try  to  put  the  grounds  of  that  cer- 
tainty into  a  logical  shape,  I  find  a  difficulty  in 
doing  so  in  mood  and  figure  to  my  satisfaction), 
I  look  out  of  myself  into  the  world  of  men, 
and  there  I  see  a  sight  which  fills  me  with 
unspeakable  distress.  The  world  seems  simply 
to  give  the  lie  to  that  great  truth,  of  which 
my  whole  being  is  so  full ;  and  the  eflFect  upon 
me  is,  in  consequence,  as  a  matter  of  neces- 
sity, as  confusing  as  if  it  denied  that  I  am  in 
existence  myself.  If  I  looked  into  a  mirror, 
and  did  not  see  my  face,  I  should  have  the  sort 
of  feeling  which  actually  comes  upon  me,  when 
I  look  into  this  living  busy  world,  and  see  no 
reflection  of  its  Creator.  This  is,  to  me,  one  of 
those  great  difficulties  of  this  absolute  primary 
truth,  to  which  I  referred  just  now.  Were  it 
not  for  this  voice,  speaking  so  clearly  in  my 
conscience  and  my  heart,  I  should  be  an 
atheist,  or  a  pantheist,  or  a  polytheist,  when  I 
looked  into  the  world.  I  am  speaking  of  my- 
self only  ;  and  I  am  far  from  denying  the  real 
force    of  the    arguments    in  proof  of  a  God, 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      169 

drawn  from  the  general  facts  of  human  society, 
and  the  course  of  history,  but  these  do  not 
warm  me  or  enlighten  me ;  they  do  not  take 
away  the  winter  of  my  desolation,  or  make  the 
buds  unfold  and  the  leaves  grow  within  me, 
and  my  moral  being  rejoice.  The  sight  of  the 
world  is  nothing  else  than  the  prophet's  scroll, 
full  of  "  lamentations,  and  mourning,  and  woeT*"^ 

To  consider  the  world  in  its  length  and 
breadth,  its  various  history,  the  many  races  of 
men,  their  starts,  their  fortunes,  their  mutual 
alienations,  their  conflicts ;  and  then  their 
ways,  habits,  governments,  forms  of  worship ; 
their  enterprises,  their  aimless  courses,  their 
random  achievements  and  acquirements,  the 
impotent  conclusion  of  long-standing  facts,  the 
tokens  so  faint  and  broken  of  a  superintending 
design,  the  blind  evolution  of  what  turn  out  to 
be  great  powers  or  truths,  the  progress  of  things, 
as  if  from  unreasoning  elements,  not  towards 
final  causes,  the  greatness  and  littleness  of 
man,  his  short  duration,  the  curtain  hung  over 
his  futurity,  the  disappointment  of  life,  the 
defeat  of  good,  the  success  of  evil,  physical 
pain,  mental  anguish,  the  prevalence  and  inten- 
sity of  sin,  the  pervading  idolatries,  the  cor- 
ruptions, the  dreary  hopeless  irreligion,  that 
condition  of  the  whole   race,  so   fearfully   yet 


170     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

so  exactly  described  in  the  Apostle*s  words, 
"  Having  no  hope  and  without  God  in  the 
world," — all  this  is  a  vision  to  dizzy  and  ap- 
pal ;  and  inflicts  upon  the  mind  the  sense  of  a 
profound  mystery,  which  is  absolutely  beyond 
human  solution. 

What  shall  be  said  to  this  heart-piercing, 
reason-bewildering  fact?  I  can  only  answer, 
that  either  there  is  no  Creator,  or  this  living 
society  of  men  is  in  a  true  sense  discarded 
from  His  presence.  Did  I  see  a  boy  of  good 
make  and  mind,  with  the  tokens  on  him  of  a 
refined  nature,  cast  upon  the  world  without 
provision,  unable  to  say  whence  he  came,  his 
birth-place  or  family  connexions,  I  should 
conclude  there  was  some  mystery  connected 
with  his  history,  and  that  he  was  one,  of 
whom,  from  one  cause  or  other,  his  parents 
were  ashamed.  Then  only  should  I  be  able 
to  account  for  the  contrast  between  the  prom- 
ise and  the  condition  of  his  being.  And  so 
I  argue  about  the  world  : — if  there  be  a  God, 
since  there  is  a  God,  the  human  race  is  im- 
plicated in  some  terrible  aboriginal  calamity. 
It  is  out  of  joint  with  the  purposes  of  its 
Creator.  This  is  a  fact,  a  fact  as  true  as  the 
fact  of  its  existence ;  and  thus  the  doctrine  of 
what  is  theologically  called  original  sin  becomes 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      171 

to  me  almost  as  certain  as  that  the  world  ex- 
ists, and  as  the  existence  of  God. — Apologia^ 
chap.  V. 

ON    SELF-KNOWLEDGE 

Now,  unless  we  have  some  just  idea  of  our 
hearts  and  of  sin,  we  can  have  no  right  idea  of 
a  Moral  Governor,  a  Saviour  or  a  Sanctifier, 
that  is,  in  professing  to  believe  in  Them,  we 
shall  be  using  words  without  attaching  distinct 
meaning  to  them.  Thus  self-knowledge  is  at 
the  root  of  all  real  religious  knowledge ;  and  it 
is  in  vain — worse  than  vain — it  is  a  deceit  and 
a  mischief,  to  think  to  understand  the  Christian 
doctrines  as  a  matter  of  course,  merely  by  being 
taught  by  books,  or  by  attending  sermons,  or 
by  any  outward  means,  however  excellent,  taken 
by  themselves.  For  it  is  in  proportion  as  we 
search  our  hearts  and  understand  our  own 
nature,  that  we  understand  what  is  meant  by 
an  Infinite  Governor  and  Judge;  in  proportion 
as  we  comprehend  the  nature  of  disobedience 
and  our  actual  sinfulness,  that  we  feel  what  is 
the  blessing  of  the  removal  of  sin,  redemption, 
pardon,  sanctification,  which  otherwise  are  mere 
words.  God  speaks  to  us  primarily  in  our 
hearts.     Self-knowledge  is  the  key  to  the  pre- 


172      Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

cepts  and  doctrines  of  Scripture.  The  very 
utmost  any  outward  notices  of  religion  can  do, 
is  to  startle  us  and  make  us  turn  inward  and 
search  our  hearts ;  and  then,  when  we  have  ex- 
perienced what  It  Is  to  read  ourselves,  we  shall 
profit  by  the  doctrines  of  the  Church  and  the 
Bible. — Sermons,  vol.  i.  pp.  42,  43. 

But  let  a  man  persevere  in  prayer  and  watch- 
fulness to  the  day  of  his  death,  yet  he  will  never 
get  to  the  bottom  of  his  heart.  Though  he 
know  more  and  more  of  himself  as  he  becomes 
more  conscientious  and  earnest,  still  the  full 
manifestation  of  the  secrets  there  lodged  is  re- 
served for  another  world.  And  at  the  last  day 
who  can  tell  the  affright  and  horror  of  a  man 
who  lived  to  himself  on  earth,  indulging  his 
own  evil  will,  following  his  own  chance  notions 
of  truth  and  falsehood,  shunning  the  cross  and 
the  reproach  of  Christ,  when  his  eyes  are  at 
length  opened  before  the  throne  of  God,  and 
all  his  innumerable  sins,  his  habitual  neglect  of 
God,  his  abuse  of  his  talents,  his  misapplication 
and  waste  of  time,  and  the  original  unexplored 
sinfulness  of  his  nature,  are  brought  clearly 
and  fully  to  his  view  ?  Nay,  even  to  the  true 
servants  of  Christ,  the  prospect  is  awful.  "  The 
righteous,"  we  are  told,  "  will  scarcely  be  saved." 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      173 

Then  will  the  good  man  undergo  the  full  sight 
of  his  sins,  which  on  earth  he  was  labouring  to 
obtain,  and  partly  succeeded  in  obtaining,  though 
life  was  not  long  enough  to  learn  and  subdue 
them  all.  Doubtless  we  must  all  endure  that 
fierce  and  terrifying  vision  of  our  real  selves, 
that  last  fiery  trial  of  the  soul  before  its  accept- 
ance, a  spiritual  agony  and  second  death  to  all 
who  are  not  then  supported  by  the  strength  of 
Him  who  died  to  bring  them  safe  through  it, 
and  in  whom  on  earth  they  have  believed. — 
Sermons,  vol.  i.  pp.  48,  49. 


ON    A    WRONG    CURIOSITY 

O  my  brethren,  do  you  not  confess  to  the 
truth  of  much  of  what  I  have  been  saying  ? 
Is  it  not  so,  that,  when  your  mind  began  to 
open,  in  proportion  as  it  opened,  it  was  by  that 
very  opening  made  rebellious  against  what  you 
knew  to  be  duty?  In  matter  of  fact,  was  not 
your  intellect  in  league  with  disobedience  ? 
Instead  of  uniting  knowledge  and  religion,  as 
you  might  have  done,  did  you  not  set  one 
against  the  other  ?  For  instance,  was  it  not  one 
of  the  first  voluntary  exercises  of  your  mind,  to 
indulge  a  wrong  curiosity  ? — a  curiosity  which 
you  confessed  to  yourselves  to  be  wrong,  which 


174     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

went  against  your  conscience,  while  you  indulged 
it.  You  desired  to  know  a  number  of  things 
which  it  could  do  you  no  good  to  know.  This 
is  how  boys  begin  ;  as  soon  as  their  mind  begins 
to  stir,  it  looks  the  wrong  way,  and  runs  upon 
what  is  evil.  This  is  their  first  wrong  step ; 
and  their  next  use  of  their  intellect  is  to  put 
what  is  evil  into  words  :  this  is  their  second 
wrong  step.  They  form  images,  and  entertain 
thoughts,  which  should  be  away,  and  they  stamp 
them  upon  themselves  and  others  by  expressing 
them.  And  next,  the  bad  turn  which  they  do 
to  others,  others  retaliate  on  them.  One  wrong 
speech  provokes  another ;  and  thus  there  grows 
up  among  them  from  boyhood  that  miserable 
tone  of  conversation — hinting  and  suggesting 
evil,  jesting,  bantering  on  the  subject  of  sin, 
supplying  fuel  for  the  inflammable  imagination 
— which  lasts  through  life,  which  is  wherever 
the  world  is,  which  is  the  very  breath  of  the 
world,  which  the  world  cannot  do  without, 
which  the  world  "  speaks  out  of  the  abundance 
of  its  heart,"  and  which  you  may  prophesy  will 
prevail  in  every  ordinary  assemblage  of  men,  as 
soon  as  they  are  at  their  ease  and  begin  to  talk 
freely, — a  sort  of  vocal  worship  of  the  Evil 
One,  to  which  the  Evil  One  listens  with  special 
satisfaction,  because  he  looks  on  it  as  the  prepa- 


Newman's  Choicest   Passages      175 

ration  for  worse  sin  ;  for  from  bad  thoughts  and 
bad  words  proceed  bad  deeds. 

Bad  company  creates  a  distaste  for  good  ;  and 
hence  it  happens  that  when  a  youth  has  gone  the 
length  I  have  been  supposing,  he  is  repelled, 
from  that  very  distaste,  from  those  places  and 
scenes  which  would  do  him  good.  He  begins 
to  lose  the  delight  he  once  had  in  going  home. 
By  little  and  little  he  loses  his  enjoyment  in 
the  pleasant  countenances,  and  untroubled 
smiles,  and  gentle  ways,  of  that  family  circle 
which  is  so  dear  to  him  still.  At  first  he  says 
to  himself  that  he  is  not  worthy  of  them, 
and  therefore  keeps  away ;  but  at  length  the 
routine  of  home  is  tiresome  to  him.  He  has 
aspirations  and  ambitions  which  home  does 
not  satisfy.  He  wants  more  than  home  can 
give.  His  curiosity  now  takes  a  new  turn  ;  he 
listens  to  views  and  discussions  which  are ' 
inconsistent  with  the  sanctity  of  religious  faith. 
At  first  he  has  no  temptation  to  adopt  them ; 
only  he  wishes  to  know  what  is  "  said."  As 
time  goes  on,  however,  living  with  companions 
who  have  no  fixed  principle,  and  who,  if  they 
do  not  oppose,  at  least  do  not  take  for  granted, 
any  the  most  elementary  truths,  or  worse, 
hearing  or  reading  what  is  directly  against 
religion,  at  length,  without  being  conscious  of 


176     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

it,  he  admits  a  sceptical  influence  upon  his 
mind.  He  does  not  know  it,  he  does  not 
recognise  it,  but  there  it  is ;  and,  before  he 
recognises  it,  it  leads  him  to  a  fretful,  impa- 
tient way  of  speaking  of  the  persons,  conduct, 
words,  and  measures  of  religious  men,  or  of 
men  in  authority.  This  is  the  way  in  which 
he  relieves  his  mind  of  the  burden  which  is 
growing  heavier  and  heavier  every  day.  And 
so  he  goes  on,  approximating  more  and  more 
closely  to  sceptics  and  infidels,  and  feeling  more 
and  more  congeniality  with  their  modes  of 
thinking,  till  some  day  suddenly,  from  some 
accident,  the  fact  breaks  upon  him,  and  he  sees 
clearly  that  he  is  an  unbeliever  himself. — Ser- 
monSy  VariouSy  i. 


ON    REALISING    WHAT    WE    READ 

Let  us  consider  how  differently  young  and 
old  are  affected  by  the  words  of  some  classic 
author,  such  as  Homer  or  Horace.  Passages 
which  to  a  boy  are  mere  rhetorical  common- 
places, neither  better  nor  worse  than  a  hundred 
others  which  any  clever  writer  might  supply, 
which  he  gets  by  heart  and  thinks  very  fine, 
and  imitates,  as  he  thinks,  successfully,  in  his 
own  flowing  versification,  at  length  come  home 


Newman's  Choicest   Passages      177 

to  him,  when  long  years  have  passed,  and 
he  has  had  experience  of  life,  and  pierce  him, 
as  if  he  had  never  before  known  them,  with 
their  sad  earnestness  and  vivid  exactness. 
Then  he  comes  to  understand  how  it  is  that 
lines,  the  birth  of  some  chance  morning  or 
evening  at  an  Ionian  festival,  or  among  the 
Sabine  hills,  have  lasted  generation  after  genera- 
tion, for  thousands  of  years,  with  a  power  over 
the  mind,  and  a  charm,  which  the  current 
literature  of  his  own  day,  with  all  its  obvious 
advantages,  is  utterly  unable  to  rival.  Perhaps 
this  is  the  reason  of  the  mediaeval  opinion 
about  Virgil,  as  if  a  prophet  or  magician ;  his 
single  words  and  phrases,  his  pathetic  half  linesj 
giving  utterance,  as  the  voice  of  Nature  herself, 
to  that  pain  and  weariness,  yet  hope  of  better 
things,  which  is  the  experience  of  her  children 
in  every  time. 

^Ajidwhat  the  experience  of  the  world  effects 
for   thelllus^ration^^^  authors,  that 

office  the  religious  sense,  carefully  cuTtivatecf, 
fulfils  towards  Holy  Scripture.  To  the  devout 
and  spiritual,  the  Divine  Word  speaks  of  things, 
not  merely  of  notions.  And,  again,  to  the  dis- 
consolate, the  tempted,  the  perplexed,  the  suffer- 
ing, there  comes,  by  means  of  their  very  trials, 
an  enlargement  of  thought,  which  enables  them 


178      Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

to  see  in  it  what  they  never  saw  before.  Hence- 
forth there  is  to  them  a  reality  in  its  teachings, 
which  they  recognise  as  an  argument,  and  the 
best  of  arguments,  for  its  divine  origin.  Read- 
ing, as  we  do,  thejGospfeb  from  our  youth- 
up,  we  are  in  danger  of  becoming  so  familiar 
with  them  as  to  be  dead  to  their  force,  and  to 
view  them  as  a  mere  history.  The  purpose, 
then,  of  meditation  is  to  realise  them  ;  to  make 
the  facts  which  they  relate  stand  out  before  our 
minds  as  objects,  such  as  may  be  appropriated 
by  a  faith  as  living  as  the  imagination  which 
apprehends  them. 

It  is  obvious  to  refer  to  the  unworthy  use  made 
of  the  more  solemn  parts  of  the  sacred  volume 
by  the  mere  popular  preacher.  His  very  mode 
of  reading,  whether  warnings  or  prayers,  is  as  if 
he  thought  them  to  be  little  better  than  fine 
writing,  poetical  in  sense,  musical  in  sound, 
and  worthy  of  inspiration.  The  most  awful 
truths  are  to  him  but  sublime  or  beautiful  con- 
ceptions, and  are  adduced  and  used  by  him,  in 
season  and  out  of  season,  for  his  own  purposes, 
for  embellishing  his  style  or  rounding  his  pe- 
riods. But  let  his  heart  at  length  be  ploughed 
by  some  keen  grief  or  deep  anxiety,  and  Script-^ 
ure  is  a  new  book  to  him..  This  is  the  change 
which    so  often  takes  place  in  what  is  called 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      179 

religious  conversion,  and  it  is  a  change  so  far 
simply  for  the  better,  by  whatever  infirmity  or 
error  it  is  in  the  particular  case  accompanied. 
And  it  is  strikingly  suggested  to  us,  to  take 
a  saintly  example,  in  the  confession  of  the 
patriarch  Job,  when  he  contrasts  his  appre- 
hension of  the  Almighty  before  and  after  his 
afflictions.  He  says  he  had  indeed  a  true 
apprehension  of  the  Divine  Attributes  before 
them  as  well  as  after ;  but  with  the  trial  came 
a  great  change  in  the  character  of  that  appre- 
hension : — "  With  the  hearing  of  the  ear,"  he 
says,  "  I  have  heard  Thee,  but  now  mine  eye 
seeth  Thee ;  therefore  I  reprehend  myself,  and 
do  penance  in  dust  and  ashes." — Grammar  of 
Assent,  chap.  iv. 


ON    THE    UNBELIEF    OF    SCIENTIFIC    MEN 

The  reason  may  be  this  :  the  humility  and 
teachableness  which  the  Scripture  precepts  in- 
culcate are  connected  with  principles  more 
solemn  and  more  awful  than  those  which  are 
necessary  for  the  temper  of  mind  in  which 
scientific  investigation  must  be  conducted  ;  and 
though  the  Christian  spirit  is  admirably  fitted 
to  produce  the  tone  of  thought  and  inquiry 
which  leads  to  the   discovery  of  truth,  yet  a 


1 80     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

slighter  and  less  profound  humility  will  do  the 
same.  The  philosopher  has  only  to  confess 
that  he  is  liable  to  be  deceived  by  false  appear- 
ances and  reasonings,  to  be  biassed  by  preju- 
dice, and  led  astray  by  a  warm  fancy;  he  is 
humble  because  sensible  he  is  ignorant,  cautious 
because  he  knows  himself  to  be  fallible,  docile 
because  he  really  desires  to  learn.  But  Chris- 
tianity, in  addition  to  this  confession,  requires 
him  to  acknowledge  himself  to  be  a  rebel  in 
the  sight  of  God,  and  a  breaker  of  that  fair  and 
goodly  order  of  things  which  the  Creator  once 
estabhshed.  The  philosopher  confesses  him- 
self to  be  imperfect ;  the  Christian  feels  himself 
to  be  sinful  and  corrupt.  The  infirmity  of 
which  the  philosopher  must  be  conscious  is  but 
a  relative  infirmity — imperfection  as  opposed 
to  perfection,  of  which  there  are  infinite  degrees. 
Thus  he  believes  himself  placed  in  a  certain 
point  of  the  scale  of  beings,  and  that  there  are 
beings  nearer  to  perfection  than  he  is,  others 
farther  removed  from  it.  But  the  Christian 
acknowledges  that  he  has  fallen  away  from  that 
rank  in  creation  which  he  originally  held  ;  that 
he  has  passed  a  line,  and  is  in  consequence  not 
merely  imperfect,  but  weighed  down  with  posi- 
tive, actual  evil.  Now  there  is  little  to  lower  a 
man  in  his  own  opinion,  in  his  believing  that 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      i8i 

he  holds  a  certain  definite  station  in  an  immense 
series  of  creatures,  and  is  in  consequence  re- 
moved, by  many  steps,  from  perfection  ;  but 
there  is  much  very  revolting  to  the  minds  of 
many,  much  that  is  contrary  to  their  ideas  of 
harmony  and  order,  and  the  completeness  of 
the  system  of  nature,  and  much  at  variance 
with  those  feelings  of  esteem  with  which  they 
are  desirous  of  regarding  themselves,  in  the 
doctrine  that  man  is  disgraced  and  degraded 
from  his  natural  and  original  rank  ;  that  he 
has,  by  sinning,  introduced  a  blemish  into  the 
work  of  God  ;  that  he  is  guilty  in  the  court  of 
heaven,  and  is  continually  doing  things  odious 
in  the  sight  of  the  Divine  holiness.  And  as 
the  whole  doctrine  of  the  Christian  faith  de- 
pends upon  this  doctrine,  since  it  was  to  re- 
deem man  from  deserved  punishment  that 
Christ  suffered  on  the  cross,  and  in  order  to 
strengthen  him  in  his  endeavours  to  cleanse 
himself  from  sin,  and  prepare  for  heaven,  that 
the  Holy  Spirit  has  come  to  rule  the  Church, 
it  is  not  wonderful  that  men  are  found,  admi- 
rable for  their  philosophical  temper  and  their 
success  in  investigating  nature,  and  yet  are  un- 
worthy disciples  in  the  school  of  the  Gospel. — 
University  Sermons,  i. 


1 82     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 


ON    THE    ENTERPRISE    OF    OUR    RACE 

This,  then,  is  the  people  for  private  enter- 
prise; and  of  private  enterprise  alone  have  I 
been  speaking  all  along.  What  a  place  is 
London  in  its  extent,  its  complexity,  its  myriads 
of  dwellings,  its  subterraneous  works  !  It  is 
the  production,  for  the  most  part,  of  individual 
enterprise.  Waterloo  Bridge  was  the  greatest 
architectural  achievement  of  the  generation  be- 
fore this  ;  it  was  built  by  shares.  New  regions, 
with  streets  of  palaces  and  shops  innumerable, 
each  shop  a  sort  of  shrine  or  temple  of  this  or 
that  trade,  and  each  a  treasure-house  of  its  own 
merchandise,  grew  silently  into  existence,  the 
creation  of  private  spirit  and  speculation.  The 
gigantic  system  of  railroads  rises  and  asks  for 
its  legal  status :  prudent  statesmen  decide  that 
it  must  be  left  to  private  companies,  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  Government.  Trade  is  to  be  en- 
couraged :  the  best  encouragement  is,  that  it 
should  be  free.  A  famine  threatens ;  one 
thing  must  be  avoided, — any  meddling  on  the 
part  of  Government  with  the  export  and  import 
of  provisions. 

Emigration  is  in  vogue :  out  go  swarms  of 
colonists,  not,  as  in  ancient  times,  from  the 
Prytaneum,  under    State    guidance    and   with 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     183 

religious  rites,  but  each  by  himself,  and  at  his 
own  arbitrary  and  sudden  will.  The  ship 
is  wrecked  ;  the  passengers  are  cast  upon  a 
rock, — or  made  the  hazard  of  a  raft.  In  the 
extremest  peril,  in  the  most  delicate  and  anx- 
ious of  occupations,  every  one  seems  to  find 
his  place,  as  if  by  magic,  and  does  his  work, 
and  subserves  the  rest  with  coolness,  cheerful- 
ness, gentleness,  and  without  a  master.  Or 
they  have  a  fair  passage,  and  gain  their  new 
country ;  each  takes  his  allotted  place  there, 
and  works  in  it  in  his  own  way.  Each  acts 
irrespectively  of  the  rest,  takes  care  of  number 
one,  with  a  kind  word  and  deed  for  his 
neighbour,  but  still  as  fully  understanding  that 
he  must  depend  for  his  own  welfare  on  him- 
self Pass  a  few  years,  and  a  town  has  risen 
on  the  desert  beach,  and  houses  of  business 
are  extending  their  connexions  and  influence 
up  the  country.  At  length,  a  company  of 
merchants  make  the  place  their  homestead, 
and  they  protect  themselves  from  their  enemies 
with  a  fort.  They  need  a  better  defence  than 
they  have  provided,  for  a  numerous  host  is 
advancing  upon  them,  and  they  are  likely  to 
be  driven  into  the  sea.  Suddenly  a  youth,  the 
castaway  of  his  family,  half-clerk,  half-soldier, 
puts  himself  at  the  head  of  a  few  troops,  de- 


184     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

fends  posts,  gains  battles,  and  ends  in  founding 
a  mighty  empire  over  the  graves  of  Mahmood 
and  Aurungzebe. 

It  is  the  deed  of  one  man ;  and  so,  where- 
ever  we  go,  all  over  the  earth,  it  is  the  solitary 
Briton,  the  London  agent,  or  the  Milordos, 
who  is  walking  restlessly  about,  abusing  the 
natives,  and  raising  a  colossus,  or  setting  the 
Thames  on  fire,  in  the  East  or  the  West.  He 
is  on  the  top  of  the  Andes,  or  in  a  diving-bell 
in  the  Pacific,  or  taking  notes  at  Timbuctoo, 
or  grubbing  at  the  Pyramids,  or  scouring  over 
the  Pampas,  or  acting  as  prime  minister  to 
the  King  of  Dahomey,  or  smoking  the  pipe 
of  friendship  with  the  Red  Indians,  or  hutting 
at  the  Pole.  No  one  can  say  beforehand  what 
will  come  of  these  various  specimens  of  the 
independent,  self-governing,  self-reliant  Eng- 
lishman. Sometimes  failure,  sometimes  open- 
ings for  trade,  scientific  discoveries,  or  political 
aggrandisements.  His  country  and  his  gov- 
ernment have  the  gain ;  but  it  is  he  who  is  the 
instrument  of  it,  and  not  poHtical  organisation, 
centralisation,  systematic  plans,  authoritative 
acts.  The  policy  of  England  is  what  it  was 
before, — the  Government  weak,  the  Nation 
strong, — strong  in  the  strength  of  its  multi- 
tudinous enterprise,  which  gives  to  its   Gov- 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      185 

ernment  a  position  in  the  world,  which  that 
Government  could  not  claim  for  itself  by  any 
prowess  or  device  of  its  own. — Discussions  and 
Arguments^  v. 


ON    THE    WORLD  S     BENEFACTORS 

Our  lesson,  then,  is  this  ;  that  those  men 
are  not  necessarily  the  most  useful  men  in 
their  generation,  nor  the  most  favoured  by 
God,  who  make  the  most  noise  in  the  world, 
and  who  seem  to  be  principals  in  the  great 
changes  and  events  recorded  in  history ;  on 
the  contrary,  that  even  when  we  are  able  to 
point  to  a  certain  number  of  men  as  the  real 
instruments  of  any  great  blessings  vouchsafed 
to  mankind,  our  relative  estimate  of  them,  one 
with  another,  is  often  very  erroneous  :  so  that, 
on  the  whole,  if  we  would  trace  truly  the  hand 
of  God  in  human  affairs,  and  pursue  His 
bounty  as  displayed  in  the  world  to  its  original 
sources,  we  must  unlearn  our  admiration  of 
the  powerful  and  distinguished,  our  reliance  on 
the  opinion  of  society,  our  respect  for  the 
decisions  of  the  learned  or  the  multitude,  and 
turn  our  eyes  to  private  life,  watching  in  all 
we  read  or  witness  for  the  true  signs  of  God's 
presence,  the  graces  of  personal  holiness  mani- 


1 86     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

fested  in  His  elect ;  which,  weak  as  they  may 
seem  to  mankind,  are  mighty  through  God, 
and  have  an  influence  upon  the  course  of  His 
Providence,  and  bring  about  great  events  in 
the  world  at  large,  when  the  wisdom  and 
strength  of  the  natural  man  are  of  no  avail. 

Now,  first,  observe  the  operation  of  this 
law  of  God's  government,  in  respect  to  the 
introduction  of  those  temporal  blessings  which 
are  of  the  first  importance  in  securing  our 
wellbeing  and  comfort  in  the  present  life. 
For  example,  who  was  the  first  cultivator  of 
corn  ?  Who  first  tamed  and  domesticated  the 
animals  whose  strength  we  use,  and  whom  we 
make  our  food  ?  Or  who  first  discovered  the 
medicinal  herbs  which,  from  the  earliest  times, 
have  been  our  resource  against  disease?  If  it 
was  mortal  man,  who  thus  looked  through  the 
vegetable  and  animal  worlds,  and  discriminated 
between  the  useful  and  the  worthless,  his  name 
is  unknown  to  the  millions  whom  he  has  bene- 
fited. It  is  notorious,  that  those  who  first 
suggest  the  most  happy  inventions,  and  open  a 
way  to  the  secret  stores  of  nature, — those  who 
weary  themselves  in  the  search  after  Truth, 
who  strike  out  momentous  principles  of  action, 
who  painfully  force  upon  their  contemporaries 
the  adoption  of  beneficial  measures,  or,  again. 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      187 

who  are  the  original  cause  of  the  chief  events 
in  national  history,  are  commonly  supplanted, 
as  regards  celebrity  and  reward,  by  inferior 
men.  Their  works  are  not  called  after  them  ; 
nor  the  arts  and  systems  which  they  have  given 
to  the  world.  Their  schools  are  usurped  by 
strangers  ;  and  their  maxims  of  wisdom  circu- 
late among  the  children  of  their  people,  form- 
ing, perhaps,  a  nation's  character,  but  not  em- 
balming in  their  own  immortality  the  names  of 
their  original  authors. — Parochial  Sermons^  11.  i. 

ON    THE    world's    RELIGION 

_What^is  the  world's  religion  now?  It  has 
taken  the  BHghlef '  side- 5F  the  Oospcl, — -its 
tidings  of  comfort,  its  precepts  of  love ;  all 
darker,  deeper  views  of  man's  condition  and 
prospects  being  comparatively  forgotten.  This 
is  the  religion  natural  to  a  civilised  age,  and 
well  has  Satan  dressed  and  completed  it  into  an 
idol  of  the  Truth.  As  the  reason  is  cultivated, 
the  taste  formed,  the  affections  and  sentiments 
refined,  a  general  decency  and  grace  will  of 
course  spread  over  the  face  of  society,  quite  in- 
dependently of  the  influence  of  Revelation. 
That  beauty  and  delicacy  of  thought,  whichlT^ 
so  attractive  in  books,  then  extends  to  the  con- 


1 88     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

duct  of  life,  to  all  we  have,  all  we  do,  all  we  are. 
Our  manners  are  courteous ;  we  avoid  giving 
pain  or  offence  ;  our  words  become  correct ;  our 
relative  duties  are  carefully  performed.  Our 
sense  of  propriety  shows  itself  even  in  our  do- 
mestic arrangements,  in  the  embellishments  of 
our  houses,  in  our  amusements,  and  so  also  in 
our  religious  profession.  Vice  now  becomes 
unseemly  and  hideous  to  the  imagination,  or,  as 
it  is  sometimes  familiarly  said,  "  out  of  taste." 
Thus  elegance  is  gradually  made  the  test  and 
standard  of  virtue,  which  is  no  longer  thought 
to  possess  an  intrinsic  claim  on  our  hearts,  or  to 
exist,  further  than  it  leads  to  the  quiet  and  com- 
fort of  others.  Conscience  is  no  longer  recog- 
nised as  an  independent  arbiter  of  actions,  its 
authority  is  explained  away ;  partly  it  is  super- 
seded in  the  minds  of  men  by  the  so-called 
moral  sense,  which  is  regarded  merely  as  the 
love  of  the  beautiful ;  partly  by  the  rule  of  ex- 
pediency, which  is  forthwith  substituted  for  it 
in  the  details  of  conduct.  Now  conscience  is  a 
stern,  gloomy  principle ;  it  tells  us  of  guilt  and 
of  prospective  punishment.  Accordingly,  when 
its  terrors  disappear,  then  disappear  also,  in  the 
creed  of  the  day,  those  fearful  images  of  Divine 
wrath  with  which  the  Scriptures  abound.  They 
are  explained  away.     Everything  is  bright  and 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      189 

cheerful.  Religion  is  pleasant  and  easy ;  be- 
nevolence is  the  chief  virtue ;  intolerance, 
bigotry,  excess  of  zeal,  are  the  first  of  sins. 
Austerity  is  an  absurdity; — even  firmness  is 
looked  on  with  an  unfriendly,  suspicious  eye. 
On  the  other  hand,  all  open  profligacy  is  dis- 
countenanced ;  drunkenness  is  accounted  a 
disgrace ;  cursing  and  swearing  are  vulgarities. 
Moreover,  to  a  cultivated  mind,  which  recreates 
itself  in  the  varieties  of  literature  and  knowledge, 
and  is  interested  in  the  ever-accumulating  dis- 
coveries of  science,  and  the  ever-fresh  accessions 
of  information,  political  or  otherwise,  from  for- 
eign countries,  religion  will  commonly  seem 
to  be  dull,  from  want  of  novelty.  Hence  ex- 
citements are  eagerly  sought  out  and  rewarded. 
New  objects  in  religion,  new  systems  and  plans, 
new  doctrines,  new  preachers,  are  necessary  to 
satisfy  that  craving  which  the  so-called  spread 
of  knowledge  has  created.  The  mind  becomes 
morbidly  sensitive  and  fastidious ;  dissatisfied 
with  things  as  they  are,  desirous  of  a  change  as 
such,  as  if  alteration  must  of  itself  be  a  relief. — 
Parochial  Sermons y  vol.  i.  pp.  31 1-3 13. 


190     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 


ON    GREEK    AND    LATIN 


Greek  is  celebrated  for  its  copiousness  in 
vocabulary,  for  its  perspicuity,  and  its  repro- 
ductive power ;  and  its  consequent  facility  of 
expressing  the  most  novel  or  abstruse  ideas 
with  precision  and  elegance.  Hence  the  Attic 
style  of  eloquence  is  plain  and  simple,  because 
simplicity  and  plainness  were  not  incompatible 
with  clearness,  energy,  and  harmony.  But  it 
was  a  singular  want  of  judgment,  an  ignorance 
of  the  very  principles  of  composition,  which 
induced  Brutus,  Calvus,  Sallust,  and  others  to 
imitate  this  terse  and  severe  beauty  in  their 
own  defective  language,  and  even  to  pronounce 
the  opposite  kind  of  diction  deficient  in  taste 
and  purity.  In  Greek,  indeed,  the  words  fall, 
as  it  were,  naturally,  into  a  distinct  and  har- 
monious order ;  and,  from  the  exuberant  rich- 
ness of  the  materials,  less  is  left  to  the  ingenuity 
of  the  artist.  But  the  Latin  language  is  com- 
paratively weak,  scanty,  and  unmusical ;  and 
requires  considerable  skill  and  management  toj 
render  it  expressive  and  graceful.  \  Simplicity 
in  Latin  is  scarcely  separable  from  baldness ; 
and  justly  as  Terence  is  celebrated  for  chaste  and 
unadorned  diction,  yet,  even  he,  compared  with 
Attic  writers,  is  flat  and  heavy.     Again,  the 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     191 

perfection  of  strength  is  clearness  united  to 
brevity ;  but  to  this  combination  Latin  is  ut- 
terly unequal.  From  the  vagueness  and  un- 
certainty of  meaning  which  characterises  its 
separate  words,  to  be  perspicuous  it  must  be 
full.  What  Livy,  and  much  more  Tacitus, 
have  gained  in  energy,  they  have  lost  in  lucidity 
and  elegance ;  the  correspondence  of  Brutus 
with  Cicero  is  forcible,  indeed,  but  harsh  and 
abrupt.  Latin,  in  short,  is  not  a  philosoph- 
ical language,  not  a  language  in  which  a  deep 
thinker  is  likely  to  express  himself  with  purity 
or  neatness.  Cicero  found  it  barren  and  dis- 
sonant, and  as  such  he  had  to  deal  with  it.  His 
good  sense  enabled  him  to  perceive  what  could 
be  done,  and  what  it  was  vain  to  attempt ;  and 
happily  his  talejits  answered  precisely  to  the 
purpose  required.  He  may  be  compared  to  a 
clever  landscape  gardener,  who  gives  depth  and 
richness  to  narrow  and  confined  premises  by 
ingenuity  and  skill  in  the  disposition  of  his 
trees  and  walks.  Cicero  rather  made  a  language 
than  a  style ;  yet  not  so  much  by  the  invention 
as  by  the  combination  of  words.  Some  terms, 
indeed,  his  philosophical  subjects  obliged  him 
to  coin ;  but  his  great  art  lies  in  the  application 
of  existing  materials,  in  converting  the  very  dis- 
advantages of  the   language  into   beauties,   in 


192     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

enriching  it  with  circumlocutions  and  metaphors, 
in  pruning  it  of  harsh  and  uncouth  expressions, 
in  systematising  the  structure  of  a  sentence. 
This  is  that  copia  dicendi  which  gained  Cicero 
the  high  testimony  of  Caesar  to  his  inventive 
powers,  and  which,  we  may  add,  constitutes 
him  the  greatest  master  of  composition  that  the 
world  has  seen. — Historical  Sketches^  ii.,  Cicero, 
12. 

ON    ATHENS 

A  confined  triangle,  perhaps  fifty  miles  its 
greatest  length,  and  thirty  its  greatest  breadth ; 
two  elevated  rocky  barriers,  meeting  at  an  angle  ; 
three  prominent  mountains,  commanding  the 
plain, — Parnes,  Pentelicus,  and  Hymettus  ;  an 
unsatisfactory  soil ;  some  streams,  not  always 
full ; — such  is  about  the  report  which  the  agent 
of  a  London  company  would  have  made  of 
Attica.  He  would  report  that  the  climate  was 
mild  ;  the  hills  were  limestone  ;  there  was  plenty 
of  good  marble  ;  more  pasture  land  than  at  first 
survey  might  have  been  expected,  sufficient 
certainly  for  sheep  and  goats ;  fisheries  pro- 
ductive ;  silver  mines  once,  but  long  since 
worked  out ;  figs  fair  ;  oil  first-rate ;  olives  in 
profusion.  But  what  he  would  not  think  of 
noting  down  was,  that  that  olive  tree  was  so 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      193 

choice  in  nature  and  so  noble  in  shape  that  it 
excited  a  religious  veneration ;  and  that  it  took 
so  kindly  to  the  light  soil,  as  to  expand  into 
woods  upon  the  open  plain,  and  to  climb  up 
and  fringe  the  hills.  He  would  not  think  of 
writing  word  to  his  employers,  how  that  clear 
air,  of  which  I  have  spoken,  brought  out,  yet 
blended  and  subdued,  the  colours  on  the  marble, 
till  they  had  a  softness  and  harmony,  for  all 
their  richness,  which  in  a  picture  looks  exagger- 
ated, yet  is  after  all  within  the  truth.  He 
would  not  tell,  how  that  same  delicate  and 
brilliant  atmosphere  freshened  up  the  pale  olive, 
till  the  olive  forgot  its  monotony,  and  its 
cheek  glowed  like  the  arbutus  or  beech  of  the 
Umbrian  hills.  He  would  say  nothing  of  the 
thyme  and  thousand  fragrant  herbs  which 
carpeted  Hymettus ;  he  would  hear  nothing  of 
the  hum  of  its  bees ;  nor  take  much  account 
of  the  rare  flavour  of  its  honey,  since  Gozo  and 
Minorca  were  sufficient  for  the  English  demand. 
He  would  look  over  the  iEgean  from  the  height 
he  had  ascended  ;  he  would  follow  with  his  eye 
the  chain  of  islands,  which,  starting  from  the 
Sunian  headland,  seemed  to  offer  the  fabled 
divinities  of  Attica,  when  they  would  visit  their 
Ionian  cousins,  a  sort  of  viaduct  thereto  across 
the  sea  ;  but  that  fancy  would  not  occur  to  him, 


194     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

nor  any  admiration  of  the  dark  violet  billows 
with  their  white  edges  down  below  ;  nor  of  those 
graceful,  fan-like  jets  of  silver  upon  the  rocks, 
which  slowly  rise  aloft  like  water  spirits  from  the 
deep,  then  shiver,  and  break,  and  spread,  and 
shroud  themselves,  and  disappear,  in  a  soft  mist 
of  foam ;  nor  of  the  gentle,  incessant  heaving 
and  panting  of  the  whole  liquid  plain ;  nor  of 
the  long  waves,  keeping  steady  time,  like  a  line 
of  soldiery,  as  they  resound  upon  the  hollow 
shore, — he  would  not  deign  to  notice  that  rest- 
less element  at  all,  except  to  bless  his  stars  that 
he  was  not  upon  it.  Nor  the  distinct  detail, 
nor  the  refined  colouring,  nor  the  graceful  out- 
line and  roseate  golden  hue  of  the  jutting  crags, 
nor  the  bold  shadows  cast  from  Otus  or  Laurium 
by  the  declining  sun ; — our  agent  of  a  mercan- 
tile firm  would  not  value  these  matters  even  at 
a  low  figure.  Rather  we  must  turn  for  the 
sympathy  we  seek  to  yon  pilgrim  student,  come 
from  a  semi-barbarous  land  to  that  small  corner 
of  the  earth,  as  to  a  shrine,  where  he  might  take 
his  fill  of  gazing  on  those  emblems  and  corus- 
cations of  invisible  unoriginate  perfection.  It 
was  the  stranger  from  a  remote  province,  from 
Britain  or  from  Mauritania,  who  in  a  scene  so 
different  from  that  of  his  chilly,  woody  swamps, 
or  of  his  fiery,  choking  sands,  learned  at  once 


Newman*s  Choicest  Passages      195 

what  a  real  University  must  be,  by  coming  to 
understand  the  sort  of  country,  which  was  its 
suitable  home. 

Nor  was  this  all  that  a  University  required, 
and  found  in  Athens.  No  one,  even  there, 
could  live  on  poetry.  If  the  students  at  that 
famous  place  had  nothing  better  than  bright 
hues  and  soothing  sounds,  they  would  not 
have  been  able  or  disposed  to  turn  their  resi- 
dence there  to  much  account.  Of  course  they 
must  have  the  means  of  living,  nay,  in  a  certain 
sense,  of  enjoyment,  if  Athens  was  to  be  an 
Alma  Mater  at  the  time,  or  to  remain  after- 
wards a  pleasant  thought  in  their  memory. 
And  so  they  had  :  be  it  recollected  Athens 
was  a  port,  and  a  mart  of  trade,  perhaps  the 
first  in  Greece ;  and  this  was  very  much  to  the 
point,  when  a  number  of  strangers  were  ever 
flocking  to  it,  whose  combat  was  to  be  with 
intellectual,  not  physical  difficulties,  and  who 
claimed  to  have  their  bodily  wants  supplied, 
that  they  might  be  at  leisure  to  set  about  fur- 
nishing their  minds.  Now,  barren  as  was  the 
soil  of  Attica,  and  bare  the  face  of  the  country, 
yet  it  had  only  too  many  resources  for  an 
elegant,  nay,  luxurious  abode  there.  So  abun- 
dant were  the  imports  of  the  place,  that  it  was 
a  common  saying,  that  the  productions,  which 


196      Newman's  Choicest  PassagCvS 

were  found  singly  elsewhere,  were  brought 
all  together  in  Athens.  Corn  and  wine,  the 
staple  of  subsistence  in  such  a  climate,  came 
from  the  isles  of  the  ^gean ;  fine  wool  and 
carpeting  from  Asia  Minor ;  slaves,  as  now, 
from  the  Euxine,  and  timber  too;  and  iron 
and  brass  from  the  coasts  of  the  Mediterranean. 
The  Athenian  did  not  condescend  to  manufact- 
ures himself,  but  encouraged  them  in  others; 
and  a  population  of  foreigners  caught  at  the 
lucrative  occupation  both  for  home  consump- 
tion and  for  exportation.  Their  cloth,  and 
other  textures  for  dress  and  furniture,  and 
their  hardware — for  instance,  armour — were 
in  great  request.  Labour  was  cheap  ;  stone 
and  marble  in  plenty;  and  the  taste  and  skill 
which  at  first  were  devoted  to  public  buildings, 
as  temples  and  porticos,  were  in  course  of  time 
applied  to  the  mansions  of  public  men.  If 
nature  did  much  for  Athens,  it  is  undeniable 
that  art  did  much  more. — Historical  Sketches^ 
I.  iii. 

ON    A    UNIVERSITY    EDUCATION 

If,  then,  a  practical  end  must  be  assigned 
to  a  University  course,  I  say  it  is  that  of  train- 
ing good  members  of  society.  Its  art  is  the 
art  of  social  hfe,  and  its  end  is  fitness  for  the 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      197 

world.  It  neither  confines  its  views  to  par- 
ticular professions  on  the  one  hand,  nor  cre- 
ates heroes  or  inspires  geniuses  on  the  other. 
Works  indeed  of  genius  fall  under  no  art ; 
heroic  minds  come  under  no  rule ;  a  Univer- 
sity is  not  a  birthplace  of  poets  or  of  immortal 
authors,  of  founders  of  schools,  leaders  of 
colonies,  or  conquerors  of  nations.  It  does 
not  promise  a  generation  of  Aristotles,  or 
Newtons,  or  Napoleons,  or  Washingtons,  of 
Raphaels  or  Shakespeares,  though  such  miracles 
of  nature  it  has  before  now  contained  within 
its  precincts.  Nor  is  it  content,  on  the  other 
hand,  with  forming  the  critic  or  the  experimen- 
talist, the  economist  or  the  engineer,  though 
such  too  it  includes  within  its  scope.  But  a 
{  University  training  is  the  great  ordinary  means 
^  to  a  great  but  ordinary  end ;  it  aims  at  raising 
the  intellectual  tone  of  society,  at  cultivating 
the  public  mind,  at  purifying  the  national  taste, 
at  supplying  true  principles  to  popular  enthu- 
siasm, and  fixed  aims  to  popular  aspirations,  at 
giving  enlargement  and  sobriety  to  the  ideas  of 
the  age,  at  facilitating  the  exercise  of  political 
power,  and  refining  the  intercourse  of  private 
life. ♦"'.'It  is  the  education  which  gives  a  man  a 
clear  conscious  view  of  his  own  opinions  and 
judgments,   a  truth    in    developing    them,    an 


198      Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

eloquence  in  expressing  them,  and  a  force  in 
urging  them.  It  teaches  him  to  see  things  as 
they  are,  to  go  right  to  the  point,  to  disentangle 
a  skein  of  thought,  to  detect  what  is  sophistical, 
and  to  discard  what  is  irrelevant.  It  prepares 
him  to  fill  any  post  with  credit,  and  to  master 
any  subject  with  facility.  It  shows  him  how  to 
accommodate  himself  to  others,  how  to  throw 
himself  into  their  state  of  mind,  how  to  bring 
before  them  his  own,  how  to  influence  them, 
how  to  come  to  an  understanding  with  them, 
how  to  bear  with  them.  He  is  at  home 
in  any  society ;  he  has  common  ground  with 
every  class ;  he  knows  when  to  speak  and 
when  to  be  silent ;  he  is  able  to  converse ; 
he  is  able  to  listen ;  he  can  ask  a  question 
pertinently,  and  gain  a  lesson  seasonably,  when 
he  has  nothing  to  impart  himself;  he  is  ever 
ready,  yet  never  in  the  way ;  he  is  a  pleasant 
companion,  and  a  comrade  you  can  depend 
upon ;  he  knows  when  to  be  serious  and  when 
to  trifle,  and  he  has  a  sure  tact  which  enables 
him  to  trifle  with  gracefulness  and  to  be  seri- 
ous with  effect.  He  has  the  repose  of  a  mind 
which  lives  in  itself,  while  it  lives  in  the  world, 
and  which  has  resources  for  its  happiness  at 
home  when  it  cannot  go  abroad.  He  has  a 
gift  which  serves  him  in  public,  and  supports 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages      199 

him  in  retirement,  without  which  good  fortune 
is  but  vulgar,  and  with  which  failure  and  dis- 
appointment have  a  charm.  The  art  which 
tends  to  make  a  man  all  this,  is  in  the  object 
which  it  pursues  as  useful  as  the  art  of  wealth 
or  the  art  of  health,  though  it  is  less  suscep- 
tible of  method,  and  less  tangible,  less  certain, 
less  complete  in  its  result. — Idea  of  a  University  ^ 
Discourse  vii. 


ON    GRAMMAR 

By  Grammar,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say, 
was  not  meant,  in  ancient  times,  as  now,  the 
mere  analysis  or  rules  of  language,  as  denoted 
by  the  words  etymology,  syntax,  prosody ;  but 
rather  it  stood  for  scholarship,  that  is,  such  an 
acquaintance  with  the  literature  of  a  language 
as  is  implied  in  the  power  of  original  compo- 
sition and  the  vivd  voce  use  of  it.  Thus 
Cassiodorus  defines  it  to  be  "  skill  in  speak- 
ing elegantly,  gained  from  the  best  poets  and 
orators  "  ;  St.  Isidore, "  the  science  of  speaking 
well  "  ;  and  Raban,  "  the  science  of  interpreting 
poets  and  historians,  and  the  rule  of  speaking 
and  writing  well."  In  the  monastic  school,  the 
language,  of  course,  was  Latin  ;  and  in  Latin 
literature   first  came  Virgil ;  next,  Lucan   and 


200     Newman's  Choicest   Passages 

Statius ;  Terence,  Sallust,  Cicero  ;  Horace, 
Persius,  Juvenal ;  and  of  Christian  poets,  Pru- 
dentius,  Sedulius,  Juvencus,  Aratus.  Thus 
we  find  that  the  monks  of  St.  Alban's,  near 
Mayence,  had  standing  lectures  in  Cicero, 
Virgil,  and  other  authors.  In  the  school  of 
Paderborne  there  were  lectures  in  Horace, 
Virgil,  Statius,  and  Sallust.  Theodulf  speaks 
of  his  juvenile  studies  in  the  Christian  authors, 
Sedulius  and  Paulinus,  Aratus,  Fortunatus, 
Juvencus,  and  Prudentius,  and  in  the  classical, 
Virgil  and  Ovid.  Gerbert,  afterwards  Sylves- 
ter the  Second,  after  lecturing  his  class  in 
logic,  brought  it  back  again  to  Virgil,  Statius, 
Terence,  Juvenal,  Persius,  Horace,  and  Lu- 
can.  A  work  is  extant  of  St.  Hildebert's,  sup- 
posed to  be  a  school  exercise ;  it  is  scarcely 
more  than  a  cento  of  Cicero,  Seneca,  Hor- 
ace, Juvenal,  Persius,  Terence,  and  other 
writers.  Horace  he  must  have  almost  known 
by  heart.  .  .  . 

Grammar,  moreover,  in  the  sense  in  which 
we  have  defined  it,  is  no  superficial  study,  nor 
insignificant  instrument  of  mental  cultivation, 
and  the  school-task  of  the  boy  became  the  life- 
long recreation  of  the  man.  Amid  the  serious 
duties  of  their  sacred  vocation  the  monks  did 
not  forget  the  books  which   had  arrested  and 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     201 

refined  their  young  imagination.  Let  us  turn 
to  the  familiar  correspondence  of  some  of  these 
more  famous  Benedictines,  and  we  shall  see 
what  were  the  pursuits  of  their  leisure,  and 
the  indulgences  of  their  relaxation.  Alcuin,  in 
his  letters  to  his  friends,  quotes  Virgil  again 
and  again  ;  he  also  quotes  Horace,  Terence, 
Pliny,  besides  frequent  allusions  to  the  heathen 
philosophers.  Lupus  quotes  Horace,  Cicero, 
Suetonius,  Virgil,  and  Martial.  Gerbert  quotes 
Virgil,  Cicero,  Horace,  Terence,  and  Sallust. 
Petrus  Cellensis  quotes  Horace,  Seneca,  and 
Terence.  Hildebert  quotes  Virgil  and  Cicero, 
and  refers  to  Diogenes,  Epictetus,  Croesus, 
Themistocles,  and  other  personages  of  ancient 
history.  Hincmar  of  Rheims  quotes  Horace. 
Paschasius  Radbert's  favourite  authors  were 
Cicero  and  Terence.  Abbo  of  Fleury  was 
especially  familiar  with  Terence,  Sallust,  Vir- 
gil, and  Horace ;  Peter  the  Venerable,  with 
Virgil  and  Horace  ;  Hepidann  of  St.  Gall  took 
Sallust  as  a  model  of  style. 

Nor  is  their  anxiety  less  to  enlarge  the  range 
of  their  classical  reading.  Lupus  asks  Abbot 
Hatto  through  a  friend  for  leave  to  copy  Sue- 
tonius's  Lives  of  the  CasarSy  which  is  in  the 
monastery  of  St.  Boniface  in  two  small  codices. 
He  sends  to  another  friend  to  bring  with  him 


202     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

the  Catilinarian  and  Jugurthan  wars  of  Sallust, 
the  Verrines  of  Cicero,  and  any  other  volumes 
which  his  friend  happens  to  know  either  he  has 
not,  or  possesses  only  in  faulty  copies,  bidding 
him  withal  beware  of  robbers  on  his  journey. 
Of  another  friend  he  asks  the  loan  of  Cicero's 
de  Rhetoricdy  his  own  copy  of  which  is  incom- 
plete, and  of  Aulus  Gellius.  In  another  letter 
he  asks  the  Pope  for  Cicero's  de  Oratore,  the 
Institutions  of  Quintilian,  and  the  Commentary 
of  Donatus  upon  Terence.  In  like  manner 
Gerbert  tells  Abbot  Gisilbert  that  he  has  the  be- 
ginning of  the  Ophthalmicus  of  the  philosopher 
Demosthenes,  and  the  end  of  Cicero's  Pro  Rege 
Deiotaro ;  and  he  wants  to  know  if  he  can  as- 
sist in  completing  them  for  him.  He  asks 
a  friend  at  Rome  to  send  him  by  Count  Guido 
the  copies  of  Suetonius  and  Aurelius,  which 
belong  to  the  Archbishop  and  himself;  he  re- 
quests Constantine,  the  lecturer  (scholasticus) 
at  Fleury,  to  bring  him  Cicero's  Verrines  and 
de  Republicd ;  and  he  thanks  Remigius,  a  monk 
of  Treves,  for  having  begun  to  transcribe  for 
him  the  Achilleid  of  Statius,  though  he  had 
been  unable  to  proceed  with  it  for  want  of  a 
copy.  To  other  friends  he  speaks  of  Pliny, 
Caesar,  and  Victorinus.  Alcuin's  Library  con- 
tained Pliny,  Aristotle,  Cicero,  Virgil,  Statius, 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages  203 

and  Lucan  ;  and  he  transcribed  Terence  with 

his  own  hand. — Historical  Sketches^   iii.  The 
Benedictine  Schools, 


ON    THE    UNREALITY    OF    LITERATURE 

And  lastly,  if  this  unreality  may  steal  over 
the  Church  itself,  which  is  in  its  very  essence  a 
practical  institution,  much  more  is  it  found  in 
the  philosophies  and  literature  of  men.  Litera- 
ture is  almost  in  its  essence  unreal ;  for  it  is 
the  exhibition  of  thought  disjoined  from  prac- 
tice. Its  very  home  is  supposed  to  be  ease 
and  retirement ;  and  when  it  does  more  than 
speak  or  write,  it  is  accused  of  transgressing 
its  bounds.  This  indeed  constitutes  what  is 
considered  its  true  dignity  and  honour,  viz. 
its  abstraction  from  the  actual  affairs  of  life  ; 
its  security  from  the  world's  currents  and 
vicissitudes ;  its  saying  without  doing.  A 
man  of  literature  is  considered  to  preserve  his 
dignity  by  doing  nothing ;  and  when  he  pro- 
ceeds forward  into  action,  he  is  thought  to 
lose  his  position,  as  if  he  were  degrading  his 
calling  by  enthusiasm,  and  becoming  a  politi- 
cian or  a  partisan.  Hence  mere  literary  men 
are  able  to  say  strong  things  against  the  opin- 
ions of  their  age,  whether  religious  or  political. 


204     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

without  offence,  because  no  one  thinks  they 
mean  anything  by  them.  They  are  not  ex- 
pected to  go  forward  to  act  upon  them,  and 
mere  words  hurt  no  one. — SermonSy  vol.  v.  iii. 


ON    A    GENTLEMAN 

It  is  almost  a  definition  of  a  gentleman  to 
say  he  is  one  who  never  inflicts  pain.  This 
description  is  both  refined  and,  as  far  as  it  goes, 
accurate.  .  .  .  The  true  gentleman  carefully 
avoids  whatever  may  cause  a  jolt  or  ajar  in  the 
minds  of  those  among  whom  he  is  cast ; — all 
clashing  of  opinion,  or  collision  of  feeling,  all 
restraint,  or  suspicion,  or  gloom,  or  resentment ; 
his  great  concern  being  to  make  every  one  at 
their  ease  and  at  home.  He  has  his  eyes  on 
all  his  company ;  he  is  tender  toward  the  bash- 
ful, gentle  toward  the  distant,  and  merciful 
toward  the  absurd ;  he  can  recollect  to  whom 
he  is  speaking ;  he  guards  against  unseason- 
able allusions,  or  topics  which  may  irritate ; 
he  is  seldom  prominent  in  conversation,  and 
never  wearisome.  He  makes  light  of  favours 
while  he  does  them,  and  seems  to  be  receiving 
when  he  is  conferring.  He  never  speaks  of 
himself  except  when  compelled,  never  defends 
himself  by  a  mere   retort,  he  has  no  ears  for 


Newman's  Choicest   Passages     205 

slander  or  gossip,  is  scrupulous  in  imputing 
motives  to  those  who  interfere  with  him,  and 
interprets  everything  for  the  best.  He  is 
never  mean  or  little  in  his  disputes,  he  never 
takes  unfair  advantage,  never  mistakes  per- 
sonalities or  sharp  sayings  for  arguments,  or 
insinuates  evil  which  he  dare  not  say  out. 
Nowhere  shall  we  find  greater  candour,  con- 
sideration, indulgence  ;  he  throws  himself  into 
the  minds  of  his  opponents,  he  accounts  for 
their  mistakes. — Idea  of  a  University^  Discourse 

VIII. 

ON    MUSIC 

Let  us  take  another  instance  of  an  outward 
and  earthly  form,  or  economy,  under  which 
great  wonders  unknown  seem  to  be  typified  : 
I  mean  musical  sounds,  as  they  are  exhib- 
ited most  perfectly  in  instrumental  harmony. 
There  are  seven  notes  in  the  scale ;  make 
them  fourteen  ;  yet  what  a  slender  outfit  for 
so  vast  an  enterprise  !  What  science  brings 
so  much  out  of  so  little  ?  Out  of  what  poor 
elements  does  some  great  master  in  it  create 
his  new  world!  Shall  we  say  that  all  this 
exuberant  inventiveness  is  a  mere  ingenuity  or 
trick  of  art,  like  some  game  or  fashion  of  the 
day,  without  meaning,  without  reality  ?     We 


2o6     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

may  do  so ;  and  then,  perhaps,  we  shall  also 
account  the  science  of  theology  to  be  a  matter 
of  words ;  yet,  as  there  is  a  divinity  in  the 
theology  of  the  Church,  which  those  who  feel 
cannot  communicate,  so  is  there  also  in  the 
wonderful  creation  of  sublimity  and  beauty  of 
which  I  am  speaking.  To  many  men  the  very 
names  which  the  science  employs  are  utterly 
incomprehensible.  To  speak  of  an  idea  or 
a  subject  seems  to  be  fanciful  or  trifling,  to 
speak  of  the  views  it  opens  upon  us  to  be 
childish  extravagance ;  yet  is  it  possible  that 
that  inexhaustible  evolution  and  disposition  of 
notes,  so  rich  yet  so  simple,  so  intricate  yet  so 
regulated,  so  various  yet  so  majestic,  should  be 
a  mere  sound,  which  is  gone  and  perishes? 
Can  it  be  that  those  mysterious  stirrings  of 
heart,  and  keen  emotions,  and  strange  yearnings 
after  we  know  not  what,  and  awful  impressions 
from  we  know  not  whence,  should  be  wrought 
in  us  by  what  is  unsubstantial,  and  comes  and 
goes,  and  begins  and  ends  in  itself?  It  is  not 
so ;  it  cannot  be.  No ;  they  have  escaped 
from  some  higher  sphere ;  they  are  the  out- 
pourings of  eternal  harmony  in  the  medium 
of  created  sound ;  they  are  echoes  from  our 
Home  ;  they  are  the  voice  of  Angels,  or  the 
Magnificat    of  saints,  or    the    living   laws    of 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     207 

divine  Governance,  or  the  Divine  Attributes ; 
something  are  they  besides  themselves,  which 
we  cannot  compass,  which  we  cannot  utter, — 
though  mortal  man,  and  he  perhaps  not  other- 
wise distinguished  above  his  fellows,  has  the 
power  of  eliciting  them. — University  Sermons ^ 

XV. 

Music,  I  suppose,  though  this  is  not  the 
place  to  enlarge  upon  it,  has  an  object  of  its 
own ;  as  mathematical  science  also,  it  is  the  ex- 
pression of  ideas  greater  and  more  profound 
than  any  in  the  visible  world,  ideas,  which 
centre  indeed  in  Him  whom  Catholicism  mani- 
fests, who  is  the  seat  of  all  beauty,  order,  and 
perfection  whatever,  still  ideas  after  all,  which 
are  not  those  on  which  Revelation  directly  and 
principally  fixes  our  gaze.  If  then  a  great 
master  in  this  mysterious  science  (if  I  may  speak 
of  matters  which  seem  to  lie  out  of  my  own 
province)  throws  himself  on  his  own  gift,  trusts 
its  inspirations,  and  absorbs  himself  in  those 
things  which,  though  they  come  to  him  in  the 
way  of  nature,  belong  to  things  above  nature, 
it  is  obvious  he  will  neglect  everything  else. 
Rising  in  his  strength,  he  will  break  through 
the  trammels  of  words,  he  will  scatter  human 
voices,  even  the  sweetest,  to  the  winds ;  he  will 


2o8      Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

be  borne  upon  nothing  less  than  the  fullest 
flood  of  sounds  which  art  has  enabled  him  to 
draw  from  mechanical  contrivances  ;  he  will  go 
forth  as  a  giant,  as  far  as  ever  his  instruments 
can  reach,  starting  from  their  secret  depths 
fresh  and  fresh  elements  of  beauty  and  grandeur 
as  he  goes,  and  pouring  them  together  into  still 
more  marvellous  and  rapturous  combinations ; 
— and  well  indeed  and  lawfully,  while  he  keeps 
to  that  line  which  is  his  own ;  but,  should  he 
happen  to  be  attracted,  as  he  well  may,  by  the 
sublimity,  so  congenial  to  him,  of  the  Catholic 
doctrine  and  ritual,  should  he  engage  in  sacred 
themes,  should  he  resolve  by  means  of  his  art 
to  do  honour  to  the  Mass,  or  the  Divine  Office, 
— (he  cannot  have  a  more  pious,  a  better  pur- 
pose, and  Religion  will  gracefully  accept  what 
he  gracefully  offers  ;  but) — is  it  not  certain,  from 
the  circumstances  of  the  case,  that  he  will  be 
carried  on  rather  to  use  Religion  than  to  minister 
to  it,  unless  Religion  is  strong  on  its  own  ground, 
and  reminds  him  that,  if  he  would  do  honour  to 
the  highest  of  subjects,  he  must  make  himself 
its  scholar,  must  humbly  follow  the  thoughts 
given  him,  and  must  aim  at  the  glory,  not  of 
his  own  gift,  but  of  the  Great  Giver. — Idea  of 
a  University^  Discourse  iv. 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     209 


ON    DEFINITENESS    IN    PREACHING 

My  second  remark  is,  that  it  is  the  preacher's 
duty  to  aim  at  imparting  to  others,  not  any 
fortuitous,  unpremeditated  benefit,  but  some 
definite  spiritual  good.  It  is  here  that  design 
and  study  find  their  place  ;  the  more  exact  and 
precise  is  the  subject  which  he  treats,  the  more 
impressive  and  practical  will  he  be ;  whereas  no 
one  will  carry  off  much  from  a  discourse  which 
is  on  the  general  subject  of  virtue,  or  vaguely 
and  feebly  entertains  the  question  of  the  de- 
sirableness of  attaining  Heaven,  or  the  rashness 
of  incurring  eternal  ruin.  As  a  distinct  image 
before  the  mind  makes  the  preacher  earnest,  so 
it  will  give  him  something  which  it  is  worth 
while  to  communicate  to  others.  Mere  sym- 
pathy, it  is  true,  is  able,  as  I  have  said,  to 
transfer  an  emotion  or  sentiment  from  mind  to 
mind,  but  it  is  not  able  to  fix  it  there.  He 
must  aim  at  imprinting  on  the  heart  what  will 
never  leave  it,  and  this  he  cannot  do  unless 
he  employ  himself  on  some  definite  subject, 
which  he  has  to  handle  and  weigh,  and  then, 
as  it  were,  to  hand  over  from  himself  to 
others.  .  .  . 

Nay,  I  would  go  the  length  of  recommending 
a  preacher  to  place  a  distinct  categorical  propo- 


2IO     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

sition  before  him,  such  as  he  can  write  down  in 
a  form  of  words,  and  to  guide  and  Hmit  his 
preparation  by  it,  and  to  aim  in  all  he  says  to 
bring  it  out,  and  nothing  else.  This  seems  to 
be  impHed  or  suggested  in  St.  Charles's  direc- 
tion :  "  Id  omnino  studebit,  ut  quod  in  concione 
dicturus  est  antea  bene  cognitum  habeat."  Nay, 
is  it  not  expressly  conveyed  in  the  Scripture 
phrase  of  "preaching  the  word^^\  for  what  is 
meant  by  "the  word"  but  a  proposition  ad- 
dressed to  the  intellect  ?  Nor  will  a  preacher's 
earnestness  show  itself  in  anything  more  un- 
equivocally than  in  his  rejecting,  whatever  be 
the  temptation  to  admit  it,  every  remark,  how- 
ever original,  every  period,  however  eloquent, 
which  does  not  in  some  way  or  other  tend  to 
bring  out  this  one  distinct  proposition  which  he 
has  chosen.  Nothing  is  so  fatal  to  the  effect 
of  a  sermon  as  the  habit  of  preaching  on  three 
or  four  subjects  at  once.  I  acknowledge  I  am 
advancing  a  step  beyond  the  practice  of  great 
Catholic  preachers  when  I  add  that,  even  though 
we  preach  on  only  one  at  a  time,  finishing  and 
dismissing  the  first  before  we  go  to  the  second, 
and  the  second  before  we  go  to  the  third,  still, 
after  all,  a  practice  like  this,  though  not  open 
to  the  inconvenience  which  the  confusing  of  one 
subject  with  another  involves,  is  in  matter  of 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     211 

fact,  nothing  short  of  the  delivery  of  three 
sermons  in  succession  without  break  between 
them. — Idea  of  a  University :  "  University 
Preaching." 


ON  EARNESTNESS  IN  PREACHING 

A  nd  here,  in  order  to  prevent  misconception, 
two  remarks  must  be  made,  which  will  lead 
us  further  into  the  subject  we  are  engaged 
upon.  The  first  is,  that,  in  what  I  have  been 
saying,  I  do  not  mean  that  a  preacher  must 
aim  at  earnestness,  but  that  he  must  aim  at  his 
object,  which  is  to  do  some  spiritual  good  to 
his  hearers,  and  which  will  at  once  make  him 
earnest.  It  is  said  that,  when  a  man  has  to 
cross  an  abyss  by  a  narrow  plank  thrown 
over  it,  it  is  his  wisdom,  not  to  look  at  the 
plank,  along  which  lies  his  path,  but  to  fix  his 
eyes  steadily  on  the  point  in  the  opposite 
precipice  at  which  the  plank  ends.  It  is  by 
gazing  at  the  object  which  he  must  reach,  and 
ruling  himself  by  it,  that  he  secures  to  himself 
the  power  of  walking  to  it  straight  and  steadily. 
The  case  is  the  same  in  moral  matters ;  no 
one  will  become  really  earnest  by  aiming  di- 
rectly at   earnestness;    any  one   may  become 


212     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

earnest  by  meditating  on  the  motives,  and  by- 
drinking  at  the  sources,  of  earnestness.  We 
may  of  course  work  ourselves  up  into  a  pre- 
tence, nay,  into  a  paroxysm,  of  earnestness  ;  as 
we  may  chafe  our  cold  hands  till  they  are 
warm.  But  when  we  cease  chafing,  we  lose  the 
warmth  again ;  on  the  contrary,  let  the  sun 
come  out  and  strike  us  with  his  beams,  and  we 
need  no  artificial  chafing  to  be  warm.  The 
hot  words,  then,  and  energetic  gestures  of  a 
preacher,  taken  by  themselves,  are  just  as  much 
signs  of  earnestness  as  rubbing  the  hands  or 
flapping  the  arms  together  are  signs  of  warmth; 
though  they  are  natural  where  earnestness  al- 
ready exists,  and  pleasing  as  being  its  spon- 
taneous concomitants.  To  sit  down  to  com- 
pose for  the  pulpit  with  a  resolution  to  be 
eloquent  is  one  impediment  to  persuasion  ;  but 
to  be  determined  to  be  earnest  is  absolutely 
fatal  to  it. 

He  who  has  before  his  mental  eye  the  Four 
Last  Things  will  have  the  true  earnestness,  the 
horror,  or  the  rapture,  of  one  who  witnesses 
a  conflagration,  or  discerns  some  rich  and  sub- 
lime prospect  of  natural  scenery.  His  coun- 
tenance, his  manner,  his  voice,  speak  for  him, 
in  proportion  as  his  view  has  been  vivid  and 
minute.     The  great  English  poet  has  described 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     2 1  3 

this  sort   of  eloquence   when  a  calamity  had 
befallen : — 

Yea,  this  man*s  brow,  like  to  a  title-page. 
Foretells  the  nature  of  a  tragic  volume. 
Thou  tremblest,  and  the  whiteness  in  thy  cheek 
Is  aptcr  than  thy  tongue  to  tell  thy  errand. 

— Idea  of  a  University  :  "  University  Preach- 
ing." 


ON    A    LOST    SOUL    BEFORE    THE   JUDGMENT   SEAT 
OF    CHRIST 

Oh,  what  a  moment,  when,  breathless  with 
the  journey,  and  dizzy  with  the  brightness, 
and  overwhelmed  with  the  strangeness  of  what 
is  happening  to  him,  and  unable  to  realise 
where  he  is,  the  sinner  hears  the  voice  of  the 
accusing  spirit,  bringing  up  all  the  sins  of  his 
past  life,  which  he  has  forgotten,  or  which  he 
has  explained  away,  which  he  would  not  allow 
to  be  sins,  though  he  suspected  they  were.  .  .  . 
And,  oh !  still  more  terrible,  still  more  dis- 
tracting, when  the  Judge  speaks,  and  consigns 
the  soul  to  the  jailors,  till  it  shall  pay  the 
endless  debt  which  lies  against  it !  "  Im- 
possible, I  a  lost  soul !  I  separated  from  hope 
and  from  peace  for  ever  !  It  is  not  I  of  whom 
the    Judge    so    spake !     There    is    a   mistake 


214     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

somewhere  :  Christ,  Saviour,  hold  Thy  hand, — 
one  minute  to  explain  it  I  My  name  is  Demas  ; 
I  am  but  Demas,  not  Judas.  What  ?  hopeless 
pain  !  for  me  !  impossible,  it  shall  not  be  !  " 
And  the  poor  soul  struggles  and  wrestles  in  the 
grasp  of  the  mighty  demon  which  has  hold 
of  it,  and  whose  every  touch  is  torment.  "  Oh, 
atrocious  !  "  it  shrieks  in  agony,  and  in  anger 
too,  as  if  the  very  keenness  of  the  affliction 
were  a  proof  of  its  injustice.  "  A  second ! 
and  a  third  !  I  can  bear  no  more !  Stop, 
horrible  fiend,  give  over:  I  am  a  man,  and 
not  such  as  thou  !  I  am  not  food  for  thee, 
or  sport  for  thee !  I  never  was  in  hell  as 
thou ;  I  have  not  on  me  the  smell  of  fire,  nor 
the  taint  of  the  charnel-house  !  I  know  what 
human  feelings  are ;  I  have  been  taught  religion ; 
I  have  had  a  conscience ;  I  have  a  cultivated 
mind ;  I  am  well  versed  in  science  and  art ;  1 
have  been  refined  by  literature ;  I  have  had  an 
eye  for  the  beauties  of  nature ;  I  am  a  philoso- 
pher, or  a  poet,  or  a  shrewd  observer  of  men, 
or  a  hero,  or  a  statesman,  or  an  orator,  or  a  man 
of  wit  and  humour.  .  .  ."  Alas  !  poor  soul ; 
and  whilst  it  thus  fights  with  that  destiny  which 
it  has  brought  upon  itself,  and  with  those  com- 
panions whom  it  has  chosen,  the  man*s  name  is 
perhaps  solemnly  chanted  forth,  and  his  memory 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     215 

decently  cherished  among  his  friends  on  earth. 
His  readiness  in  speech,  his  fertility  in  thought, 
his  sagacity,  or  his  wisdom,  are  not  forgotten. 
Men  talk  of  him  from  time  to  time ;  they  ap- 
peal to  his  authority ;  they  quote  his  words ; 
perhaps  they  even  raise  a  monument  to  his 
name,  or  write  his  history.  "  So  comprehensive 
a  mind  !  Such  a  power  of  throwing  light  on  a 
perplexed  subject,  and  bringing  conflicting  ideas 
or  facts  into  harmony  !  "  "  Such  a  speech  it 
was  that  he  made  on  such  and  such  an  occasion  ; 
I  happened  to  be  present,  and  never  shall  forget 
it! "  or,  "It  was  the  saying  of  a  very  sensible 
man  "  ;  or,  "  A  great  personage  whom  some  of 
us  knew";  or,  "It  was  a  rule  with  a  very 
excellent  and  sensible  friend  of  mine,  now  no 
more  " ;  or,  "  Never  was  his  equal  in  society, 
so  just  in  his  remarks,  so  versatile,  so  unob- 
trusive " ;  or,  "  I  was  fortunate  to  see  him  once 
when  I  was  a  boy  "  ;  or,  "  So  great  a  benefactor 
to  his  country  and  his  kind  "  ;  "  His  discoveries 
so  great  ";  or,  "  His  philosophy  so  profound." 
Oh,  vanity  !  vanity  of  vanities,  all  is  vanity ! 
What  profiteth  it?  What  profiteth  it?  His 
soul  is  in  hell.  Oh,  ye  children  of  men,  while 
thus  ye  speak,  his  soul  is  in  the  beginning  of 
those  torments  in  which  his  body  will  soon  have 
part,  and  which  will  never  die.  .  . 


21 6     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

"  Deus  misereatur  nostril  et  henedicat  nobis  "  ; 
"  God  have  mercy  on  us,  and  bless  us  ;  and 
cause  His  face  to  shine  upon  us,  and  have 
mercy  on  us.  God,  even  our  God,  bless  us ; 
may  God  bless  us ;  and  may  all  the  ends  of  the 
earth  fear  Him." — 'Discourses  to  Mixed  Congre- 
gationsy  ii. 


ON    THOMAS    MOZLEY  S    WASTE    OF    TIME 

I  am  truly  rejoiced  to  find  your  desire  for 
parochial  employment  has  not  diminished,  and 
your  opinion  of  your  own  health  not  such  as 
to  deter  you.  For  myself,  since  I  heard  your 
symptoms  I  have  not  been  alarmed,  but  some 
persons  have  been  very  anxious  about  you.  I 
trust  you  are  to  be  preserved  for  many  good 
services  in  the  best  of  causes.  I  am  sure  you 
have  that  in  you  which  will  come  to  good  if 
you  cherish  and  improve  it.  You  may  think 
I  am  saying  a  strange  thing,  perhaps  an  im- 
pertinent and  misplaced,  and  perhaps  founded 
on  a  misconception,  yet  let  me  say  it,  and  blame 
me  if  it  be  harsh — viz.  that,  had  it  pleased  God 
to  have  visited  you  with  an  illness  as  serious  as 
the  Colchester  people  thought  it,  it  would  al- 
most have  seemed  a  rebuke  for  past  waste  of 
time.     I  believe  that  God  often  cuts  off  those 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     217 

He  loves,  and  who  are  really  His,  as  a  judg- 
ment, not  interfering  with  their  ultimate  safety, 
but  as  passing  them  by  as  unworthy  of  being 
made  instruments  of  His  purposes.  It  is  an 
idea  which  was  strong  upon  the  mind  of  my 
brother  during  his  illnesses  of  the  last  year,  while 
he  did  not  doubt  that  his  future  interests  were 
essentially  secure.  I  doubt  not  at  all  that  you 
have  all  along  your  illness  had  thoughts  about 
it  far  better  than  I  can  suggest ;  and  I  reflect 
with  thankfulness  that  the  very  cause  of  it  was 
an  endeavour  on  your  part  to  be  actively  em- 
ployed, to  the  notion  of  which  you  still  cling ; 
yet  I  cannot  but  sorrowfully  confess  to  myself 
(how  much  soever  I  wish  to  hide  the  fact  from 
my  own  mind)  that  you  have  lost  much  time  in 
the  last  four  or  five  years.  I  say  I  wish  to  hide 
it  from  myself,  because,  in  simple  truth,  in  it  I 
perceive  a  humiliation  to  myself.  I  have  ex- 
pected a  good  deal  from  you,  and  have  said  I 
expected  it.  Hitherto  I  have  been  disappointed, 
and  it  is  a  mortification  to  me.  I  do  expect 
it  still,  but  in  the  meanwhile  time  is  lost  as 
well  as  hope  delayed.  Now  you  must  not 
think  it  unkind  in  me  noticing  this  now,  of  all 
times  of  the  year.  I  notice  it,  not  as  if  you 
needed  the  remark  most  now,  rather  less,  but 
because  you  have  more  time  to  think  about  it 


21 8      Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

now.  It  is  one  special  use  of  times  of  illness 
to  reflect  about  ourselves.  Should  you,  how- 
ever, really  acquit  yourself  in  your  own  mind, 
thinking  that  the  course  you  have  pursued  of 
letting  your  mind  take  its  own  way  was  the 
best  for  yourself,  I  am  quite  satisfied  and  will 
believe  you,  yet  shall  not  blame  myself  for 
leading  you  to  the  question,  since  no  one  can 
be  too  suspicious  about  himself.  Doubtless 
you  have  a  charge  on  you  for  which  you  must 
give  account.  You  have  various  gifts  and  you 
have  good  principles — for  the  credit  of  those 
principles,  for  the  sake  of  the  Church,  and  for 
the  sake  of  your  friends,  who  expect  it  of  you, 
see  that  they  bring  forth  fruit.  I  have  often 
had — nay,  have — continually  anxious  thoughts 
about  you,  but  it  is  unpleasant  to  obtrude 
them,  and  now  I  have  hesitated  much  before 
I  got  myself  to  say  what  I  have  said,  lest  I 
should  only  be  making  a  fuss  ;  yet,  believe  me, 
to  speak  with  very  much  affection  towards  you. 
Two  men  who  know  you  best,  Golightly  and 
Christie,  appear  to  me  to  consider  you  not 
at  all  improved  in  your  particular  weak  points. 
I  differ  from  them.  Perhaps  I  am  exaggerat- 
ing their  opinion,  and  men  speak  generally 
and  largely  when  they  would  readily  on  con- 
sideration make  exceptions,  etc.     But  if  this  be 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     219 

in  any  measure  true,  think  what  it  impHes  ? 
What  are  we  placed  here  for,  except  to  over- 
come the  evTrepiaraTOf;  afiapria^  whatever  it  be 
in  our  own  case  ? — Ever  yours  affectionately, 

J.  H.  Newman. 
— Mozley's  Reminiscences y  vol.  ii..  Addenda. 

ON    DAVID 

Latest  born  of  Jesse's  race. 
Wonder  lights  thy  bashful  face, 
While  the  Prophet's  gifted  oil 
Seals  thee  for  a  path  of  toil. 
We,  thy  Angels,  circling  round  thee. 
Ne'er  shall  find  thee  as  we  found  thee. 
When  thy  faith  first  brought  us  near 
In  thy  lion-fight  severe. 

Go  !  and  'mid  thy  flocks  awhile 
At  thy  doom  of  greatness  smile ; 
Bold  to  bear  God's  heaviest  load. 
Dimly  guessing  of  the  road — 
Rocky  road,  and  scarce  ascended. 
Though  thy  foot  be  angel-tended. 

Twofold  praise  thou  shalt  attain. 
In  royal  court  and  battle  plain; 
Then  comes  heartache,  care,  distress. 
Blighted  hope,  and  loneliness ; 


220     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

Wounds  from  friend  and  gifts  from  foe. 
Dizzied  faith,  and  guilt,  and  woe  : 
Loftiest  aims  by  earth  defiled. 
Gleams  of  wisdom  sin-beguiled. 
Sated  power's  tyrannic  mood. 
Counsels  shared  with  men  of  blood. 
Sad  success,  parental  tears. 
And  a  dreary  gift  of  years. 

Strange,  that  guileless  face  and  form 

To  lavish  on  the  scarring  storm  ! 

Yet  we  take  thee  in  thy  blindness 

And  we  buflfet  thee  in  kindness  ; 

Little  chary  of  thy  fame, — 

Dust  unborn  may  bless  or  blame, — 

But  we  mould  thee  for  the  root 

Of  man's  promised  healing  Fruit, 

And  we  mould  thee  hence  to  rise. 

As  our  brother,  to  the  skies. — Verses  (Ixi.) 

ON    PAUL 

A  heathen  poet  has  said,  "  Homo  sum,  humani 
nil  mi  alienum  puto  " — "  I  am  a  man  ;  nothing 
human  is  without  interest  to  me,"  and  the  senti- 
ment has  been  widely  and  deservedly  praised. 
Now  this,  in  a  fulness  of  meaning  which  a 
heathen  could  not  understand,  is,  I  conceive. 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     221 

the  characteristic  of  this  great  Apostle.  He  is 
ever  speaking,  to  use  his  own  words,  "  human 
things,"  and  "  as  a  man,"  and  "  according  to 
man,"  and  "  foolishly" — that  is,  human  nature, 
the  common  nature  of  the  whole  race  of  Adam, 
spake  in  him,  acted  in  him,  with  an  energetical 
presence,  with  a  sort  of  bodily  fulness,  always 
under  the  sovereign  command  of  divine  grace, 
but  losing  none  of  its  real  freedom  and  power 
because  of  its  subordination.  And  the  conse- 
quence is  that,  having  the  nature  of  man  so 
strong  in  him,  he  is  able  to  enter  into  human 
nature,  and  to  sympathise  with  it,  with  a  gift 
peculiarly  his  own. 

Now  the  most  startling  instance  of  this  is 
this — that,  though  his  life  prior  to  his  conver- 
sion seems  to  have  been  so  conscientious  and 
so  pure,  nevertheless  he  does  not  hesitate  to 
associate  himself  with  the  outcast  heathen,  and 
to  speak  as  if  he  were  one  of  them.  St.  Philip 
before  he  communicated  used  to  say,  "Lord,  I 
protest  before  Thee  that  I  am  good  for  nothing 
but  to  do  evil."  At  confession  he  used  to  say, 
"  I  have  never  done  one  good  action."  He 
often  said,  "  I  am  past  hope."  To  a  penitent 
he  said,  "  Be  sure  of  this ;  I  am  a  man  like  my 
neighbours,  and  nothing  more."  Well,  I  mean, 
that   somewhat  in  this    way  Paul  felt  all  his 


222     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

neighbours,  all  the  whole  race  of  Adam,  to  be 
existing  in  himself.  He  knew  himself  to  be 
possessed  of  a  nature ;  he  was  conscious  of 
possessing  a  nature  which  was  capable  of  running 
into  all  the  multiplicity  of  emotions,  of  devices, 
of  purposes,  and  of  sins,  into  which  it  had 
actually  run  in  the  wide  world,  and  in  the 
multitude  of  men  ;  and  in  that  sense  he  bore  the 
sins  of  all  men,  and  associated  himself  with  them, 
and  spoke  of  them  and  himself  as  one.  He 
not  only  counts  himself,  as  his  birth  made  him, 
in  the  number  of  "  children  of  wrath,"  but  he 
classes  himself  with  the  heathen  as  "  conversing 
in  the  desires  of  the  flesh,"  "  and  fulfilling  the 
desires  of  the  flesh  and  the  mind."  And  in 
another  Epistle  he  speaks  of  himself,  at  the 
time  he  writes,  as  if  "  carnal,  sold  under  sin  "  ; 
he  speaks  of  "  sin  dwelling  in  him,"  and  of  his 
"serving  with  the  flesh  the  law  of  sin  "  ;  this,  I 
say,  when  he  was  an  Apostle  confirmed  in  grace. 
Meanwhile,  may  this  glorious  Apostle,  this 
sweetest  of  inspired  writers,  this  most  touching 
and  winning  of  teachers,  may  he  do  me  some 
good  turn,  who  has  ever  felt  such  a  special  de- 
votion towards  him  !  May  this  great  saint,  this 
man  of  large  mind,  of  various  sympathies,  of 
affectionate  heart,  have  a  kind  thought  for  every 
one    of  us    here    according   to  our  respective 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     223 

needs  !  He  has  carried  his  human  thoughts 
and  feelings  with  him  to  the  throne  above; 
and,  though  he  sees  the  Infinite  and  Eternal 
Essence,  he  still  remembers  well  that  troublous 
ocean  below,  of  hopes  and  fears,  of  impulses 
and  aspirations,  of  efforts  and  failures,  which 
is  now  what  it  was  when  he  was  here.  Let  us 
beg  him  to  intercede  for  us  with  the  Majesty 
on  high,  that  we  too  may  have  some  portion 
of  that  tenderness,  compassion,  mutual  affec- 
tion, love  of  brotherhood,  abhorrence  of  strife 
and  division,  in  which  he  excelled. — Sermons^ 
VariouSy  vii. 

ON    A    GREAT    AUTHOR 

A  great  author  is  not  one  who  merely  has  a 
cofia  verhorum  whether  in  prose  or  verse,  and 
can,  as  it  were,  turn  on  at  his  will  any  number 
of  splendid  phrases  and  swelling  sentences  ;  but 
he  is  one  who  has  something  to  say  and  knows 
how  to  say  it.  I  do  not  claim  for  him,  as  such, 
any  great  depth  of  thought,  or  breadth  of  view, 
or  philosophy,  or  sagacity,  or  knowledge  of 
human  nature,  or  experience  of  human  life, 
though  these  additional  gifts  he  may  have,  and 
the  more  he  has  of  them  the  greater  he  is  ;  but 
I  ascribe  to  him,  as  his  characteristic  gift,  in  a 


224     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

large  sense  the  faculty  of  Expression.  He  is 
master  of  the  twofold  Logos,  the  thought  and 
the  word,  distinct,  but  inseparable  from  each 
other.  He  may,  if  so  be,  elaborate  his  com- 
positions, or  he  may  pour  out  his  improvisa- 
tions, but  in  either  case  he  has  but  one  aim, 
which  he  keeps  steadily  before  him,  and  is  con- 
scientious and  single-minded  in  fulfilling.  That 
aim  is  to  give  forth  what  he  has  within  him ; 
and  from  his  very  earnestness  it  comes  to  pass 
that,  whatever  be  the  splendour  of  his  diction 
or  the  harmony  of  his  periods,  he  has  with 
him  the  charm  of  an  incommunicable  simplicity. 
Whatever  be  his  subject,  high  or  low,  he  treats 
it  suitably  and  for  its  own  sake.  If  he  is  a  poet, 
"  nil  molitur  ineptir  If  he  is  an  orator,  then 
too  he  speaks,  not  only  "  distincte "  and 
"  splendide,"  but  also  "  apth^^  His  page  is  the 
lucid  mirror  of  his  mind  and  life — 

**  Quo  fit,  ut  omnis 
Votiva  pateat  veluti  descripta  tabella 
Vita  senis.'* 

He  writes  passionately,  because  he  feels 
keenly  ;  forcibly,  because  he  conceives  vividly  ; 
he  sees  too  clearly  to  be  vague ;  he  is  too  seri- 
ous to  be  otiose ;  he  can  analyse  his  subject, 
and  therefore  he  is  rich ;  he  embraces  it  as  a 
whole  and  in  its  parts,  and  therefore  he  is  con- 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     225 

sistent ;  he  has  a  firm  hold  of  it,  and  therefore 
he  is  luminous.  When  his  imagination  wells 
up,  it  overflows  in  ornament ;  when  his  heart 
is  touched,  it  thrills  along  his  verse.  He  always 
has  the  right  word  for  the  right  idea,  and  never 
a  word  too  much.  If  he  is  brief,  it  is  because 
few  words  suffice ;  when  he  is  lavish  of  them, 
still  each  word  has  its  mark,  and  aids,  not  em- 
barrasses, the  vigorous  march  of  his  elocution. 
He  expresses  what  all  feel,  but  all  cannot  say ; 
and  his  sayings  pass  into  proverbs  among  his 
people,  and  his  phrases  become  household 
words  and  idioms  of  their  daily  speech,  which 
is  tesselated  with  the  rich  fragments  of  his 
language,  as  we  see  in  foreign  lands  the  marbles 
of  Roman  grandeur  worked  into  the  walls  and 
pavements  of  modern  palaces. 

Such  pre-eminently  is  Shakespeare  among 
ourselves ;  such  pre-eminently  Virgil  among 
the  Latins ;  such  in  their  degree  are  all  those 
writers  who  in  every  nation  go  by  the  name  of 
Classics.  To  particular  nations  they  are  neces- 
sarily attached  from  the  circumstance  of  the 
variety  of  tongues,  and  the  peculiarities  of  each  ; 
but  so  far  they  have  a  catholic  and  ecumenical 
character,  that  what  they  express  is  common  to 
the  whole  race  of  man,  and  they  alone  are  able 
to  express  it. 


226     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

If,  then,  the  power  of  speech  is  a  gift  as 
great  as  any  that  can  be  named, — if  the  origin 
of  language  is  by  many  philosophers  even  con- 
sidered to  be  nothing  short  of  divine, — if  by 
means  of  words  the  secrets  of  the  heart  are 
brought  to  light,  pain  of  soul  is  relieved,  hid- 
den grief  is  carried  off,  sympathy  conveyed, 
counsel  imparted,  experience  recorded,  and 
wisdom  perpetuated, — if  by  great  authors  the 
many  are  drawn  up  into  unity,  national  char- 
acter is  fixed,  a  people  speaks,  the  past  and  the 
future,  the  East  and  the  West  are  brought  into 
communication  with  each  other, — if  such  men 
are,  in  a  word,  the  spokesmen  and  prophets  of 
the  human  family, — it  will  not  answer  to  make 
light  of  Literature  or  to  neglect  its  study ; 
rather  we  may  be  sure  that,  in  proportion  as 
we  master  it  in  whatever  language,  and  imbibe 
its  spirit,  we  shall  ourselves  become  in  our  own 
measure  the  ministers  of  like  benefits  to  others, 
be  they  many  or  few,  be  they  in  the  obscurer 
or  the  more  distinguished  walks  of  life, — who 
are  united  to  us  by  social  ties,  and  are  within 
the  sphere  of  our  personal  influence. — Idea  of 
a  University  :  "  Literature.*' 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     227 

ON    SOME    GREAT    AUTHORS 

Cicero 

His  copious,  majestic,  musical  flow  of  lan- 
guage, even  if  sometimes  beyond  what  the  sub- 
ject-matter demands,  is  never  out  of  keeping 
with  the  occasion  or  with  the  speaker.  It  is  the 
expression  of  lofty  sentiments  in  lofty  sentences, 
the  "  mens  magna  in  corpore  magnoJ"^  It  is  the 
development  of  the  inner  man.  Cicero  vividly 
realised  the  status  of  a  Roman  senator  and 
statesman,  and  the  "  pride  of  place  "  of  Rome,  in 
all  the  grace  and  grandeur  which  attached  to  her ; 
and  he  imbibed,  and  became,  what  he  admired. 
As  the  exploits  of  Scipio  and  Pompey  are  the 
expression  of  this  greatness  in  deed,  so  the 
language  of  Cicero  is  the  expression  of  it  in 
word.  And,  as  the  acts  of  the  Roman  ruler  or 
soldier  represent  to  us,  in  a  manner  special  to 
themselves,  the  characteristic  magnanimity  of 
the  lords  of  the  earth,  so  do  the  speeches  and 
treatises  of  her  accomplished  orator  bring  it 
home  to  our  imagination  as  no  other  writing 
could  do.  Neither  Livy,  nor  Tacitus,  nor 
Terence,  nor  Seneca,  nor  Pliny,  nor  Quin- 
tilian,  is  an  adequate  spokesman  for  the  im- 
perial city.  They  write  Latin :  Cicero  writes 
Roman. — Idea  of  a  University  :  "  Literature." 


228      Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

This  is  the  great  art  of  Cicero  himself,  who, 
whether  he  is  engaged  in  statement,  argument, 
or  raillery,  never  ceases  till  he  has  exhausted 
the  subject ;  going  round  about  it,  and  placing 
it  in  every  different  light,  yet  without  repetition 
to  offend  or  weary  the  reader.  .  .  .  We  see 
Cicero  resigning  his  high  station  to  Cato,  who, 
with  half  his  abilities,  little  foresight,  and  no 
address,  possessed  that  first  requisite  for  a 
statesman — firmness.  Cicero,  on  the  contrary, 
was  irresolute,  timid,  and  inconsistent.  He 
talked,  indeed,  largely  of  preserving  a  middle 
course,  but  he  was  continually  vacillating  from 
one  to  the  other  extreme  ;  always  too  confident 
or  too  dejected ;  incorrigibly  vain  of  success, 
yet  meanly  panegyrising  the  government  of  a 
usurper.  His  foresight,  sagacity,  practical  good 
sense,  and  singular  tact,  were  lost  for  want  of 
that  strength  of  mind  which  points  them  stead- 
ily to  one  object.  He  was  never  decided,  never 
(as  has  sometimes  been  observed)  took  an  im- 
portant step  without  afterwards  repenting  of  it. 
— Historical  Sketches^  Cicero. 

Horace 

The  poems  of  Horace  are  most  melancholy 
to  read,  but  they  bring  before  us  most  vividly 
and  piteously  our  state  by  nature  ;  they  increase 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     229 

in  us  a  sense  of  our  utter  dependence  and 
natural  helplessness ;  they  arm  us  against  the 
fallacious  promises  of  the  world,  especially  at 
this  day — the  promises  of  science  and  literature 
to  give  us  light  and  liberty.  Horace  tries  to 
solace  himself  with  the  pleasures  of  sense,  and 
how  stern  a  monitor  he  has  within  him,  telling 
him  that  death  is  coming.  Have  you  seen 
Conington's  translations  of  Horace?  If  not, 
will  you  accept  them  from  me  ?  Horace  is 
untranslatable,  but  I  think  they  will  interest 
you. — Letters y  ii.  p.  481. 

Juvenal 

Juvenal  is  perhaps  the  only  ancient  author 
who  habitually  substitutes  declamation  for  po- 
etry.— EssaySy  i.  i. 

Lucretius 

Lucretius,  too,  had  great  poetical  genius ; 
but  his  work  evinces  that  his  miserable  philos- 
ophy was  rather  the  result  of  a  bewildered 
judgment  than  a  corrupt  heart. — Essays,  i.  i. 

Athanasius 

The  great  saint  in  whose  name  I  began  to 
write  years  ago,  and  with  whom  I  end.  Atha- 
nasius is  a  great  writer,  simple  in  his  diction. 


230     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

clear,  unstudied,  direct,  vigorous,  elastic,  and, 
above  all,  characteristic.  This  renowned  Father 
is  in  ecclesiastical  history  the  special  doctor  of 
the  sacred  truth  which  Arius  denied,  bringing  it 
out  into  shape  and  system  so  fully  and  lumi- 
nously that  he  may  be  said  to  have  exhausted  his 
subject,  as  far  as  it  lies  open  to  the  human  in- 
tellect.— Athanasius^  ii. 

And  royal-hearted  Athanase 

With  Paurs  own  mantle  blest. 

Verses, 

Origen 

Origen,  that  labour-loving  man. — Athana- 
siusy  i.  47. 

Origen,  that  man  of  strong  heart,  who  has 
paid  for  the  unbridled  freedom  of  his  specu- 
lations on  other  subjects  of  theology,  by  the 
multitude  of  grievous  and  unfair  charges  which 
burden  his  name  with  posterity. 

Hooker 

About  Hooker  there  is  the  charm  of  nature 
and  reality  ;  he  discourses,  not  as  a  theologian, 
but  as  a  man  ;  and  we  see  in  him  what  oth- 
erwise might  have  been  hidden,  poetry  and 
philosophy  informing  his  ecclesiastical  matter. 
— EssaySy  i.  iv. 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     231 

Bull 

Bull,  again,  is,  beyond  his  other  traits,  re- 
markable for  discursiveness.  He  is  full  of  di- 
gressions, which  can  only  be  excused  because 
they  are  so  instructive  and  beautiful.  If  he  is 
often  rhetorical,  he  is  never  dry ;  and  never 
tires,  except  from  the  abundance  of  his  matter. 
— EssaySy  i.  iv. 

Butler 

The  study  of  Butler  has  been  to  so  many, 
as  it  was  to  me,  an  era  in  their  religious 
opinions. — Apologia,  chap.  i. 

Byron 

Byron  had  very  little  versatility  or  elasticity 
of  genius  ;  he  did  not  know  how  to  make 
poetry  out  of  existing  materials.  He  declaims 
in  his  own  way,  and  has  the  upper  hand  as 
long  as  he  is  allowed  to  go  on  ;  but  if  inter- 
rogated on  principles  of  nature  and  good  sense, 
he  is  at  once  put  out,  and  brought  to  a  stand. 
While  we  do  not  deny  the  incidental  beauty 
of  a  poem,  we  are  ashamed  and  indignant  on 
witnessing  the  unworthy  substance  in  which  that 
beauty   is   imbedded.      This    remark    applies 


232     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

strongly  to  the  immoral  compositions  to  which 
Lord  Byron  devoted  his  last  years. — Essays^ 
I.  i. 

Burns 

Burns  was  a  man  of  inconsistent  life :  still, 
it  is  known,  of  much  really  sound  principle 
at  bottom.  Thus  his  acknowledged  poetical 
talent  is  in  no  wise  inconsistent  with  the  truth 
of  our  doctrine,  which  will  refer  the  beauty 
which  exists  in  his  compositions  to  the  remains 
of  a  virtuous  and  diviner  nature  within  him. 
Nay,  further  than  this,  our  theory  holds  good, 
even  though  it  be  shown  that  a  depraved  man 
may  write  a  poem.  As  motives  short  of  the 
purest  lead  to  actions  intrinsically  good,  so 
frames  of  mind,  short  of  virtuous,  will  pro- 
duce a  partial  and  limited  poetry.  But  even 
where  this  is  instanced,  the  poetry  of  a  vicious 
mind  will  be  inconsistent  and  debased. — Essays^ 
I.  i. 

Scott 

Curious,  I  have  just  been  reading  Lockhart's 
Life  of  Scott,  Curious,  too,  I  feel  so  different 
about  it  from  you.  It  has  brought  more  tears 
into  my  eyes  than  any  book  I  ever  read,  but 
withal  has  left  an  impression  on  me  like  a  bad 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     233 

dream.  I  cannot  get  the  bitter  taste  out  of  my 
mouth.  I  mean  it  is  so  like  vanity  of  vanities, 
except  that  I  really  do  trust  he  has  done  a  worky 
and  may  be  an  instrument  in  the  hands  of 
Providence  for  the  revival  of  Catholicity. — 
Letter  to  Keble,  in  Letters^  ii. 


T^hackeray 

I  write  to  express  the  piercing  sorrow  that 
I  feel  in  Thackeray's  death.  You  know  I 
never  saw  him,  but  you  have  interested  me  in 
him,  and  one  saw  in  his  books  the  workings  of 
his  mind — and  he  has  died  with  such  awful 
suddenness. 

A  new  work  of  his  had  been  advertised,  and 
I  had  looked  forward  with  pleasure  to  reading 
it ;  and  now  the  drama  of  his  life  is  closed,  and 
he  himself  is  the  greatest  instance  of  the  text  of 
which  he  was  so  full,  vanitas  vanitatum,  omnia 
vanitas,  I  wonder  whether  he  has  known  his 
own  decay,  for  a  decay  I  think  there  has  been. 
I  thought  his  last  novel  betrayed  lassitude  and 
exhaustion  of  mind,  and  he  has  lain  by  apparent- 
ly for  a  year.  His  last  (fugitive)  pieces  in  the 
Cornhill  have  been  almost  sermons.  One  should 
be  very  glad  to  know  that  he  had  presentiments 
of  what  was  to  come.     What  a  world  is  this ! 


234     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

How  wretched  they  are  who  take  it  for  their 
portion !  Poor  Thackeray  !  it  seems  but  the 
other  day  since  we  became  Catholics ;  now  all 
his  renown  has  been  since  that — he  has  made 
his  name,  has  been  much  made  of,  has  been 
feted,  and  has  gone  out,  all  since  1 846  or  1 847. 
— Letters^  ii. 

ON     HIMSELF 

(i)  On  his  Conversion 

When  I  was  fifteen,  a  great  change  of  thought 
came  over  me.  I  fell  under  the  influence  of  a 
definite  creed,  and  received  into  my  intellect 
impressions  of  dogma,  which,  through  God's 
mercy,  have  never  been  effaced  or  obscured. 
Here  I  make  a  remark  :  persistence  in  a  given 
belief  is  no  sufficient  test  of  its  truth,  but  de- 
parture from  it  is  at  least  a  slur  upon  the  man 
who  has  felt  so  certain  about  it.  In  proportion, 
then,  as  I  had  in  1832  a  strong  persuasion  of 
opinions  which  I  have  since  given  up,  so  far  a 
sort  of  guilt  attaches  to  me,  not  only  for  that 
vain  confidence,  but  for  all  the  various  proceed- 
ings which  were  the  consequences  of  it.  But 
under  this  first  head  I  have  the  satisfaction  of 
feeling  that  I  have  nothing  to  retract  and  nothing 
to  repent  of.     The  main  principle  of  the  move- 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     235 

ment  is  as  dear  to  me  now  as  it  ever  was.  I 
have  changed  in  many  things :  in  this  I  have 
not.  From  the  age  of  fifteen,  dogma  has  been 
the  fundamental  principle  of  my  religion.  I 
know  no  other  religion ;  religion,  as  a  mere 
sentiment,  is  to  me  a  dream  and  a  mockery. 
As  well  can  there  be  filial  love  without  the  fact 
of  a  father  as  devotion  without  the  fact  of  a 
Supreme  Being.  What  I  held  in  1 8 1 6, 1  held 
in  1833,  and  I  hold  in  1864.  Please  God,  I 
shall  hold  it  to  the  end. — Apologia,  chaps,  i. 
and  ii. 

(2)  On  his  own  Style 

For  myself,  when  I  was  fourteen  or  fifteen, 
I  imitated  Addison ;  when  I  was  seventeen,  I 
wrote  in  the  style  of  Johnson  ;  about  the  same 
time  I  fell  in  with  the  twelfth  volume  of  Gibbon, 
and  my  ears  rang  with  the  cadences  of  his  sen- 
tences, and  I  dreamed  of  it  for  a  night  or  two. 
Then  I  began  to  make  an  analysis  of  Thucyd- 
ides  in  Gibbon's  style. 

It  is  simply  the  fact  that  I  have  been  obliged 
to  take  great  pains  with  everything  I  have 
written,  and  I  often  write  chapters  over  and  over 
again,  besides  innumerable  corrections  and  in- 
terleaved additions.     I  am  not  stating  this  as  a 


236     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

merit,  only  that  some  persons  write  their  best 
first,  and  I  very  seldom  do.  Those  who  are 
good  speakers  may  be  supposed  to  be  able  to 
write  off  what  they  want  to  say.  I,  who  am  not 
a  good  speaker,  have  to  correct  laboriously  what 
I  put  on  paper.  However,  I  may  truly  say  that 
I  never  have  been  in  the  practice,  since  I  was  a 
boy,  of  attempting  to  write  well,  or  to  form  an 
elegant  style.  I  think  I  never  have  written 
for  writing's  sake ;  but  my  one  and  single 
desire  and  aim  has  been  to  do  what  is  so 
difficult,  viz.  to  express  clearly  and  exactly 
my  meaning :  this  has  been  the  motive  prin- 
ciple of  all  my  corrections  and  re-writings. 
When  I  have  read  over  a  passage  which  I  had 
written  a  few  days  before,  I  have  found  it  so 
obscure  to  myself  that  I  have  either  put  it 
altogether  aside,  or  fiercely  corrected  it ;  for  I 
don't  get  any  better  for  practice.  I  am  as  much 
obliged  to  correct  and  re-write  as  I  was  thirty 
years  ago. 

As  to  patterns  for  imitation,  the  only  master 
of  style  I  have  ever  had  (which  is  strange,  con- 
sidering the  differences  of  the  languages)  is 
Cicero.  I  think  I  owe  a  great  deal  to  him, 
and  as  far  as  I  know  to  no  one  else.  His 
great  mastery  of  Latin  is  shown  especially  in 
his  clearness. — Letters^  ii.  477. 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     237 

(3)  On  a  Picnic 

When  I  was  down  at  Darlington  for  the  first 
time  in  July  1831,  I  saw  a  number  of  young 
girls  collected  together,  blooming,  and  in  high 
spirits,  "  and  all  went  merry  as  a  marriage-bell." 
And  I  sadly  thought  what  changes  were  in 
store ;  what  hard  trial  and  discipline  were  in- 
evitable !  I  cannot  trace  their  history,  but 
Phyllis  and  Mary  Froude  married,  and  died 
quickly.  Hurrell  died.  One,  if  not  two,  of 
the  young  Champernownes  died.  My  sermon 
"  Scripture  a  Record  of  Human  Sorrow  "  {Pa- 
rochial Sermons,  vol.  i.)  was  dictated  at  the  sight 
and  the  foreboding.  At  that  very  visit  Hurrell 
caught  and  had  his  influenza  upon  him,  which 
led  him  by  slow  steps  to  the  grave.  Influenza 
was  about,  the  forerunner  of  the  cholera.  It 
went  through  the  parsonage  of  Darlington. 
Every  morning  the  sharp  merry  party,  who 
somewhat  quizzed  me,  had  hopes  it  would  seize 
upon  me.  But  I  escaped,  and  sang  my  warn- 
ing from  the  pulpit. — Letters y  ii.  83. 

(4)  On  his  Gaucherie 

Twice  in  my  life  have  I,  when  worn  with 
work,   gone   to   a   friend's    house   to   recruit. 


238     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

The  first  time  was  the  above,  in  1831;  the 
second  in  1852-3,  to  Abbotsford.  I  there, 
tt  prof  OS  of  nothing,  and  with  such  little  con- 
sideration that  I  am  aghast  how  I  could  have 
done  it,  urged  on  Hope  Scott  that  the  families 
of  literary  men  did  not  last.  It  is  to  me 
incomprehensible  how  I  could  have  been  so 
gauche,  or  what  I  was  thinking  of.  Since  then 
the  owner,  young  Scott  Lockhart,  is  dead, 
Mrs.  Hope  Scott,  her  infant  son  and  daughter. 
And  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  who,  with  his 
family,  was  in  the  house,  is  at  this  moment  hang- 
ing between  life  and  death. — Letters,  ii.  83. 

(5)  On  his  Unvenerableness 

As  to  myself,  be  quite  sure  that,  if  you  saw 
me  again,  you  would  just  feel  as  you  did  when 
you  saw  me  before.  I  am  not  venerable,  and 
nothing  can  make  me  so.  I  am  what  I  am. 
I  am  very  much  like  other  people,  and  I  do 
not  think  it  necessary  to  abstain  from  the 
feelings  and  thoughts,  not  intrinsically  sinful, 
which  other  people  have.  I  cannot  speak 
words  of  wisdom  ;  to  some  it  comes  naturally. 
Do  not  suffer  any  illusive  notion  about  me  to 
spring  up  in  your  mind.  No  one  ever  treats 
me  with  deference  and  respect  who  knows  me, 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     239 

and  from  my  heart  I  trust  and  pray  no  one 
ever  may.  I  have  never  been  in  office  or  sta- 
tion, people  have  never  bowed  to  me,  and  I 
could  not  endure  it.  I  tell  you,  frankly,  my 
infirmity,  I  believe,  is  to  be  rude  to  persons 
who  are  deferential  in  manner  to  me. — Letters^ 

(6)    On  his  own  Character 

Next  day  the  self-reproaching  feelings  in- 
creased. I  seemed  to  see  more  and  more  my 
utter  hollowness.  I  began  to  think  of  all  my 
professed  principles,  and  felt  they  were  mere 
intellectual  deductions  from  one  or  two  admitted 
truths.  I  compared  myself  with  Keble,  and 
felt  that  I  was  merely  developing  his,  not  my, 
convictions.  Indeed,  this  is  how  I  look  on 
myself;  very  much  (as  the  illustration  goes)  as 
a  pane  of  glass,  which  transmits  heat,  being 
cold  itself  I  have  a  vivid  perception  of  the 
consequences  of  certain  admitted  principles, 
have  a  considerable  intellectual  capacity  of 
drawing  them  out,  have  the  refinement  to 
admire  them,  and  a  rhetorical  or  histrionic 
power  to  represent  them ;  and,  having  no  great 
(i,e,  no  vivid)  love  of  this  world,  whether 
riches,  honours,  or  anything  else,  and  some 
firmness  and  natural  dignity  of  character,  take 


240     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

the  profession  of  them  upon  me,  as  I  might 
sing  a  tune  which  I  liked — loving  the  Truth, 
but  not  possessing  it,  for  I  believe  myself  at 
heart  to  be  nearly  hollow,  i,e.  with  little  love, 
little  self-denial.  I  believe  I  have  some  faith, 
that  is  all ;  and,  as  to  my  sins,  they  need  my 
possessing  no  little  amount  of  faith  to  set  against 
them,  and  gain  their  remission.  By  the  bye, 
this  statement  will  account  for  it,  how  I  can 
preach  the  Truth  without  thinking  much  of  my- 
self. Arnold,  in  his  letter  to  Grant  about  me, 
accuses  me  among  others  of  identifying  high 
excellence  with  certain  peculiarities  of  my  own, 
— i.e,  preaching  myself. — Letters y  i.  416. 


M^^^' 


ON    LEAVING   THE    CHURCH    OF    ENGLAND 


'  O  mother  of  saints  !     O  school  of  the  wise  ! 

O  nurse  of  the  heroic  !     Of  whom  went  forth, 

in  whom  have  dwelt,  memorable  names  of  old, 

to  spread  the  truth  abroad,  or  to  cherish  and 

illustrate  it  at  home !      O  thou,  from  whom 

^         r  surrounding  nations  lit  their  lamps  !     O  virgin 

3^^^  sof  Israel !    wherefore    dost  thou    now    sit   on 

i/the  ground  and  keep  silence,  like  one  of  the 

f   foolish  women  who    were  without  oil  on  the 

coming  of  the   Bridegroom  ?     Where  is  now 

the  ruler  in  Zion,  and  the  doctor  in  the  Tem- 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     241 

pie,  and  the  ascetic  on  Carmel,  and  the  herald 
in  the  wilderness,  and  the  preacher  in  the  mar- 
ket-place ?  where  are  thy  "  effectual  fervent 
prayers,''  offered  in  secret,  and  thy  alms  and 
good  works  coming  up  as  a  memorial  before 
God  ?  .  .  .  O  my  mother,  whence  is  this 
unto  thee,  that  thou  hast  good  things  poured 
out  upon  thee  and  canst  not  keep  them,  and 
bearest  children,  yet  darest  not  own  them  ?  why 
hast  thou  not  the  skill  to  use  their  services, 
nor  the  heart  to  rejoice  in  their  love  ?  how  is  it 
that  whatever  is  generous  in  purpose,  and  ten- 
der or  deep  in  devotion,  thy  flower  and  thy 
promise,  falls  from  thy  bosom,  and  finds  no 
home  within  thine  arms  ?  Who  hath  put  this 
note  upon  thee,  to  have  a  "  miscarrying  womb, 
and  dry  breasts,"  to  be  strange  to  thine  own 
flesh,  and  thine  eye  cruel  towards  thy  little 
ones  ?  Thine  own  offspring,  the  fruit  of  thy 
womb,  who  love  thee  and  would  toil  for  thee, 
thou  dost  gaze  upon  them  with  fear,  as  though 
a  portent,  or  thou  dost  loathe  as  an  offence ; — 
at  best  thou  dost  but  endure,  as  if  they  had  no 
claim  but  on  thy  patience,  self-possession,  and 
vigilance,  to  be  rid  of  them  as  easily  as  thou 
mayest.  Thou  makest  them  "  stand  all  the 
day  idle,"  as  the  very  condition  of  thy  bearing 
with  them;  or  thou  biddest   them    be  gone, 


242     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

where  they  will  be  more  welcome  ;  or  thou 
sellest  them  for  nought  to  the  stranger  that 
passes  by.  And  what  wilt  thou  do  in  the  end 
thereof?  .  .  .  Scripture  is  a  refuge  in  any 
trouble ;  only  let  us  be  on  our  guard  against 
seeming  to  use  it  further  than  is  fitting,  or  doing 
more  than  sheltering  ourselves  under  its  shadow. 
Let  us  use  it  according  to  our  measure.  It  is 
far  higher  and  wider  than  our  need  ;  and  its 
language  veils  our  feelings  while  it  gives  ex- 
pression to  them.  It  is  sacred  and  heavenly ; 
and  it  restrains  and  purifies,  while  it  sanc- 
tions them. — Sermons  on  Subjects  of  the  Dayy 
xxvi. 

ON    LEAVING    HIS    CONGREGATION 

And,  O  my  brethren,  O  kind  and  affec- 
tionate hearts,  O  loving  friends,  should  you 
know  any  one  whose  lot  it  has  been,  by 
writing  or  by  word  of  mouth,  in  some  de- 
gree to  help  you  thus  to  act  ;  if  he  has 
ever  told  you  what  you  knew  about  your- 
selves, or  what  you  did  not  know ;  has  read 
to  you  your  wants  or  feelings,  and  com- 
forted you  by  the  very  reading ;  has  made 
you  feel  that  there  was  a  higher  life  than  this 
daily  one,  and  a  brighter  world  than  that  you 
see  ;    or  encouraged  you,  or  sobered  you,  or 


Newman's  Choicest  Passages     243 

opened  a  way  to  the  inquiring,  or  soothed 
the  perplexed ;  if  what  he  has  said  or  done 
has  ever  made  you  take  interest  in  him,  and 
feel  well  inclined  towards  him  ;  remember  such 
a  one  in  time  to  come,  though  you  hear  him 
not,  and  pray  for  him,  that  in  all  things  he 
may  know  God's  will,  and  at  all  times  he  may 
be  ready  to  fulfil  it. — Sermons  on  Subjects  of  the 
Day^  xxvi. 

ON    HIS    SECESSION    TO    ROME 

Good   friends,   you   have  not  far  to  seek ; 

hahetis  confitentem  reum  ;  he  pleads  guilty  ;  he 
has  given  up  a  fellowship  and  a  living ;  he  has 
damaged  his  reputation  for  judgment  and  dis- 
cernment; he  has  cheerfully  made  himself  a 
scoiF,  submitted  himself  as  a  prey  to  the  news- 
papers, has  made  himself  strange  to  his 
brethren  ;  and  besides  and  amid  all  this,  it  is 
true,  he  has  said  a  strong  word  he  had  better 
not  have  said — or  uttered  a  sarcasm — his  suc- 
cessive disclosures  have  not  severely  kept  time 
with  the  growth  of  his  misgivings, — he  has 
spoken  to  those  with  whom  he  should  have 
been  reserved,  and  has  been  silent  when  he 
should  have  spoken ;  at  times  he  has  not 
known  where  he  stood,  and  perhaps  promised 


244     Newman's  Choicest  Passages 

what  he  could  not  perform.  Of  his  sacrifices 
he  thinks  and  says  nothing ;  what  he  does 
know  and  does  painfully  think  of,  is  in  sub- 
stance just  that  which  you  so  rhetorically  urge 
against  him,  yes,  and  before  you  urge  it.  His 
self-scrutiny  has  preceded  your  dissection  of 
him.  What  you  proclaim  to  the  world,  he 
confesses  without  grudging,  viz.  that  he  has 
but  acted  secundum  captum  suum,  according  to 
what  he  is,  not  as  an  Angel,  but  as  a  man.  In 
the  process  of  his  conversion  he  has  had  to 
struggle  with  uncertainty  of  mind,  with  the 
duties  of  an  actual  position,  with  misgivings 
of  its  untenableness,  with  the  perplexity  of 
fulfilling  many  duties  and  of  reconciling  con- 
flicting ones.  He  is  not  perfect;  no  one  is 
perfect ;  not  they  who  accuse  him ;  he  could 
retaliate  upon  them ;  he  could  gratuitously 
suggest  reasons  for  their  retaining  their  stations, 
as  they  can  suggest  reasons  for  his  relinquish- 
ing his  own  ;  it  is  easy  to  impute  motives  ;  but 
it  would  be  unworthy  of  him  to  do  so.  He 
leaves  his  critics  to  that  Judgment  to  which  he 
himself  appeals.  May  they  who  have  spoken 
or  written  harshly  of  recent  converts  to  the 
Catholic  Church  receive  at  the  Great  Day 
more  lenient  measure  than  they  have  in  this 
case  given  ! — Essays,  vol.  ii. :  "  John  Keble." 


APPENDIX 


APPENDIX 

Dec.  15,  1883. 

My  dear  Dr.  Whyte, — I  thank  you  for  your 
Commentary  which  you  have  sent  me.  It  has  in- 
terested me  greatly  ;  it  rejoices  me  to  meet  with  so 
much  in  it  which  I  can  sympathise  and  concur  in ; 
and  I  thank  you  heartily  for  the  kind  references  you 
make  to  me  in  the  course  of  it,  and  for  the  words 
you  have  written  in  its  first  page. 

But  it  pains  me  that  so  large  a  heart  as  yours 
should  so  little  enter  into  the  teaching  of  the  Catho- 
lic Church,  let  alone  agreeing  to  it.  Thus  you  say 
that  we  consider  that  we  physically  eat  our  Lord's 
flesh  and  drink  His  blood  in  the  Holy  Eucharist.  It 
might  be  quite  as  truly  said  that  in  John  vi.  our 
Lord  speaks  of  "  eating  His  flesh  and  drinking  His 
blood "  physically,  as  that  we  so  speak.  We  con- 
sider the  substance  of  His  body  and  blood  to  be  in 
the  Sacrament,  and  thereby  to  be  given  to  us ;  and 
you  truly  say  (p.  17),  speaking  of  the  Holy  Trinity, 
that  the  "  substance "  is  that  "  awful,  mysterious 
Essence  of  which  the  qualities  are  not  extension,  or 
colour,  or  figure,"  etc.,  that  is,  not  the  "  phenomena" 
which  we  call  physis  or  nature,  and  which  we  could 
only  receive  "  physically,"  but  that  unknown  Reality 

247 


248  Newman 

to  which  sensible  qualities  attach  themselves  and  be- 
long, without  being  it. 

Excuse  this  outbreak  of  controversy,  and  believe 
me  to  be  most  truly  yours, 

John  H.  Card.  Newman. 

The  Rev.  A.  Whyte,  D.D. 

Dec.  21,  1883. 

My  dear  Dr.  Whyte, — It  is  very  kind  in  you 
to  ask  me  to  suggest  an  emendation  in  the  passage 
I  pointed  out  to  you,  now  that  a  second  edition  is 
called  for.  I  hope  I  shall  propose  nothing  that  you 
cannot  accept.  Anyhow,  I  shall  quite  understand 
any  difficulty  which  may  arise,  and  shall  be  sure  that 
you  grant  me  as  much  as  you  can.  I  quote  some 
sentences  from  our  authoritative  documents  as  refer- 
ences^ but,  of  course,  only  in  justification  of  any 
changes  in  your  text,  not  as  if  I  wanted  them  in- 
troduced into  it. — Very  sincerely  yours, 

John  H.  Card.  Newman. 

P.S. — I  ought,  in  my  first  letter,  to  have  expressed 
my  sense  of  the  service  you  are  doing  to  the  cause 
of  Christian  charity  by  your  quotations  from  authors 
external  to  your  own  Communion. 

edition  I.  OF  catechism,  pp.  184-5. 

"This  is  directed  against  the  Popish  doctrine  of 
Transubstantiation.  According  to  that  doctrine  the 
bread  and  wine  are  changed  into  the  very  flesh  and 


Appendix  249 

blood  of  Christ,  so  that  all  communicants  literally 
and  physically  eat  the  flesh  and  drink  the  blood  of 
Christ." 

PROPOSED    CORRECTION. 

This  is  directed  against  the  Popish  doctrine  of 
Transubstantiation.  According  to  this  doctrine  the 
substance  of  the  bread  and  wine  is  converted  into 
the  substance  of  the  very  flesh  and  blood  of  Christ, 
so  that  all  communicants  literally  and  substantially 
partake  His  flesh  and  blood.     {Vide  supr.^  pp.  1 7  and 

18.) 

B'm.,  Dec.  a6,  1883. 

Dear  Dr.  Whyte, — I  am  sorry  to  have  given 
you  the  trouble  of  a  correspondence,  and  feel  I  have 
to  ask  your  pardon. 

As  to  your  kind  proposal  to  insert  my  letter  into 
your  second  edition,  I  will  not  dream  of  consenting 
to  it. 

It  would  be  a  poor  return  on  my  part  to  your 
courteous  treatment  of  me  in  your  book,  to  turn 
your  catechism  into  a  controversy.  Nor  will  I  do 
it.  The  two  ideas  are  quite  distinct.  Nor  would  it 
be  fair  to  myself,  as  if  I  felt  sore  personally  when  my 
faith  was  misconceived.  What  claim  have  I  to  in- 
troduce myself  into  your  volume  ?  My  only  possi- 
ble claim  would  be  your  thinking  that  I  had  made  a 
case.  To  consider  that  I  had  not^  yet  to  insert  my 
letter,  would  be  granting  more  than  you  have  a  right 
to  grant,  in  justice  to  yourself. 


250  Newman 

Nothing,  then,  can  make  me  approve  a  course 
which,  though  generous  in  you,  does  you  harm  with- 
out doing  me  good. — Your  faithful  servant, 

John  H.  Card.  Newman. 

B'm.,  Dec.  31,  1883. 

My  dear  Dr.  Whyte, — You  are  treating  me 
with  extreme  kindness,  and  if  any  word  of  mine  to 
you  implies  annoyance  in  me,  I  assure  you  it  mis- 
represents me,  and  the  nearest  approach  I  have  had 
to  any  feeling  of  pain  has  been  a  great  anxiety  lest  I 
should  have  quoted  our  profession  of  doctrine  incom- 
pletely, and  that  I  had  left  out  any  authoritative  tes- 
timonies or  popular  beliefs  which  would  give  to  our 
tenet  a  different  aspect. 

But  indeed  I  sincerely  think  such  a  different  as- 
pect cannot  be  found.  Not  the  most  ignorant  or 
stupid  Catholic  thinks  that  he  eats  physically  the 
body  of  our  Lord.  What  we  all  believe  is  that  we 
partake  the  Body  and  Blood  that  hung  upon  the 
Cross,  and  that,  in  the  words  of  the  Anglican  ser- 
vice, "  that  our  sinful  bodies  may  be  made  clean  by 
his  Body,  and  our  souls  washed  through  the  most 
precious  Blood " ;  but  as  to  the  how  He  brings  this 
to  pass,  it  is  a  mystery. 

To  strengthen  my  feeling  that  I  had  acted  quite 
fairly  by  you,  I  put  my  hands  on  a  copy  of  our 
authoritative  Penny  Catechism  taught  in  our  schools, 
and  I  now  send  it,  if  you  will  kindly  accept  it.  You 
will  find  the  passages  bearing  on  the  point  at  pp.  42-44. 


Appendix  251 

Inverted  commas  are  all  that  can  be  needed,  and 
are  a  happy  thought. — Most  truly  yours, 

J.  H.  Card.  Newman. 


B'm.,  Jan.  2,  1884. 

Dear  Dr.  Whyte, — Since  I  sent  to  you  my 
letter,  agreeing  to  your  printing  "  substance,"  etc., 
in  inverted  commas,  I  have  been  teazed  with  the 
thought  I  have  not  been  fair  to  you,  as  I  will  ex- 
plain. 

You  say  "  this  is  directed  against  the  Popish  doc- 
trine." I  am  right  in  saying  that  the  "  Popish 
doctrine  "  is  not  what  you  have  stated  it  to  be,  but  I 
am  not  fair  to  yourself  when  I  allow  you  to  propose 
to  say  that  "  the  Shorter  Catechism "  directs  its 
words  against  the  doctrine  (really  ours)  of  "  the 
change  of  substance^  Is  it  not  more  likely  that  its 
writers  knew  little,  or  thought  little,  of  the  decrees  of 
the  Council  of  Trent,  and  were  aiming  at  the  extreme 
notions  of  the  multitude  who  were  in  many  places 
superstitious  and  sadly  in  want  of  instruction  ? 

This  doubt  has  made  me  quite  miserable,  since 
you  have  been  so  very  kind  to  me ;  and  I  so  confide 
in  that  kindness  that  I  would  rather  put  the  matter 
entirely  into  your  hands  without  me. 

Excuse  this  bad  writing,  but  the  power  to  hold  a 
pen  is  going  from  me. — Very  sincerely  yours, 

John  H.  Card.  Newman. 


252  Newman 

Dec.  31,  1885. 

My  dear  Dr.  Whyte, — I  am  very  glad  that  you 
give  me  the  opportunity  (as  you  do  by  your  gift  of 
Mr.  Mackintosh's  volume)  of  wishing  you  a  Happy 
New  Year,  which  I  do  with  all  my  heart. 

Your  recommendation  will  go  very  far  in  making 
me  take  an  interest  in  it ;  but  you  must  recollect  my 
age.  I  read  and  write  very  slowly,  and  the  day  is 
ended  ere  it  has  well  begun.  And,  though  I  do  so 
little,  I  am  soon  tired,  and  am  always  ready  for  the 
indulgence  of  a  sound  sleep. 

I  hope  you  will  allow  it,  if  I  send  to  you  and  to  all 
who  are  dear  to  you  my  Christmas  blessing. — Most 
truly  yours,  J.  H.  Card.  Newman. 


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